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THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 
AND OTHER POEMS 



THE WORLD THAT GOD 
DESTROYED 

AND OTHER POEMS 



By 

FREDERICK E. PIERCE 




New Haven 

YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS 

MCMXI 



7,i 






Copyright, 1911 

BY 

Yale University Press 



Printed from type. 750 copies. September, 1911. 



Dramatic and all other rights reserved 



^ 






Printed in the United States 



©CU2JJ7r>98 



TO THE MOST PATIENT 

AND LOVING OF ALL MY CRITICS 

MY SISTER MARY 



We take pleasure in acknowledging the 
courtesy of The Independent, The Pacific 
Monthly, and The Yale Review for permission 
to republish poems that have previously 
appeared in their pages. 



TO THE READER 

Out of the lone New England hills. 

Where fields are rocky and hearts are stern. 
Where there's much to suffer and much to learn, 

And men build visions no God fulfills; 

Out of the haunted elms of Yale, 

Where hopes have budded and friendships leaved, 
And the spirit in which her sons believed 

Fired hero's effort and poet's tale ; 

Out of a hope that perhaps was vain; 

Out of a dream that he ne'er will rue, — 

Reader, the author speaks to you 
In a world of wonder and joy and pain. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

PAGE 

To the Reader vii 

The World That God Destroyed: 

Prologue 1 

Act I 3 

Act II 20 

Act III 56 

Act IV 77 

Act V 109 

Other Poems: 

Armistice 121 

The Man-eater 126 

Early Death 127 

Voices from Elfland: 

I. The Appeal of the Fairies . . 129 

II. The Stolen Child ISO 

The Last Night of Capua 133 

The Coming of Peace 136 

Thoughts on Opening Webster's Diction- 
ary 138 

A Vision of Evil 141 

Wasted Seeds 143 

The Butterfly 144 



• CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Oriole 147 

The Night-watch 150 

Shakespeare to Imogen 153 

Truth 154 

The Divine Comedy of To-day . . . 156 

A Fairy Story 157 

The Seacoast in Winter 160 

School-girls l6l 

The Eventless Tragedy 162 

The Visit to the Old Farm .... 164 
On Placing a Tombstone over My 

Father's Grave 166 

The Farewell to Reason l69 

The Corn-huskers 170 

The Family Bible 172 



THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 
AND OTHER POEMS 



The World that God Destroyed 



PROLOGUE 



THE EVE OF THE DELUGE 

The sun sank palled in dread; 

Birds hushed on bough; 
"God is a myth/' men said, 

As men do now. 
Beneath the Eternal's frown 
Loud reveled king and clown; 
Blood flowed in field and town. 

None questioned how. 

The dripping chaplet tied 

The harlot's brow; 
Grave statesmen planned and lied, 

Secure as now. 
As lions, drowsing, seem 
To hunt in hungry dream. 
Purred the great ocean stream 

Round cape and prow. 



THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Night came; no face was pale; 

No prayer, no vow. 
God stood behind the veil. 

As He does now. 
Strange tints the heaven tinged, 
Like light from doors unhinged; 
And the wild panther cringed. 

And bird on bough. 

Bards harped in halls impure; 

Slaves forged the plow ; 
Earth dreamed she should endure 

As long as now. 
Next morning swam the whale 
O'er throne and altar-rail. 
'Twas an old Hebrew tale; 

But read it, thou. 



ACT I. 

Time. The morning before the Deluge. 

Place. A hill near the ark^ commanding a view 
over the plain to the east and the city of Cain in its 
midst. 

[Enter Noah and a friend.] 

Noah. There, kinsman, slow, like God's reluc- 
tant wrath. 
Comes the last dawning of a world. 

Friend. 'Tis calm. 

As mild as mercy's front. For men so long 
Cherished, forgiven, warned, and spared in vain, 
'Twill neither warn nor spare. 

Noah. Is Javan come? 

Friend. Last night his horsemen signaled from 
the plain; 
An hour will bring him. 

Noah. Bold was he to linger 

So far from home beneath the threat of Heaven. 

Friend. Sad news will wait him; he loved Irad 
dearly. 

Noah. So did we all. Alas^ the boy ! 

[Enter attendant.] 

Attendant. My chief. 

Noah. Your errand, sir.^ 



4 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Attendant. An embassy from Nod. 

Noah. From Nod to-day ! What irony works in 
heaven 
To send them here to-day.'' What mission draws 

them ? 
Well, bring them hither. Will it not seem uncanny 
To treat with dying states on doomsday morning ? 
Friend. And hear them roar as lions do, when, 
scratched 
With poison darts, they're doomed and know it not. 

[Enter Tubal-cain with a splendid retinue.^ 

Tubal. I bring you greetings from the land of 

Nod. 
Noah. In the same will and temper we return 
them. 
Wherein can Noah serve the sons of Cain ? 

Tubal. In yielding them their own, too long 
unclaimed. 
You hold a boy called Irad, one of us. 
Ten moons detained as hostage here, a boy 
Whom much we learned to love. We'd have him 

back; 
And therefore am I come. 

Noah. Is Irad yours 

Because Cain's daughter bore him, Cainite homes 
Misled his years till manhood? Nay, his sire 
Was my own brother, and his blood was ours. 
Nor held we him as hostage ; his free will 



AND OTHER POEMS 5 

Made him prefer his father's people here, 
Adopted, not detained. And would to God 
I had no more to tell. 

Tubal. Ay, so you say. 

Lies nestle green beneath a hoary beard 
Like wheat beneath a snowdrift. Bring him here; 
And see if, when the road lies open plain 
To Nod, he'll feel adopted. 

Noah. Not so fast. 

Love held him here with golden threads; now here 
Will justice chain him. Dread has been the fruit 
Of your ill schooling and his mother's blood. 
The curse of Cain has found his child through you. 
Enoch, my kin, is dead by him you seek. 

Tubal. Yea, so we heard and therefore came. 
What then? 
Revenge is for the strong and not for you. 
Yield up the boy ; or, by the serpent's head 
That lost us Eden, to-morrow you shall hear 
Our Cainite javelins rattling through your tents. 
A dreadful day 'twill be. 

Noah. Dreadful indeed. 

Thou canst not dream what little cause have I 
To fear thy wrath to-morrow, nor what Arm 
Shall be my proxy working death on thee. 
Vaunt on; I dread thee not. 

Tubal. Then hark again. 

My horsemen hold a captive down below, 
Your youngest son, your Javan, taken but now, 



6 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Surety for Irad's life. To-morrow's sun. 
If it see Irad on these hills with you. 
Sees Javan down with us. 

Noah. To-morrow's sun 

See Javan there ! Eternal God forbid ! 

Tubal. Or him or Irad; choose. 

Noah. Bring Irad hither. 

[Exit attendant.] 

Friend. Droop not; God works in this. Per- 
chance last night 
We judged too gently; blood demandeth blood. 

Noah. Let him not die red-handed ! Lord of 
Nod, 
How say you if the boy refuse to go. 
Of his own choice remain .f' 

Tubal. In dreams I see him. 

Noah. But if he do, shall Javan then be free .f* 

Tubal. If he do this, or if the burning stars 
Turn dancing eastward, then, and not before. 
Shall you keep both. 

Friend. Knew he what comes to-morrow 

He then were safe. 

Noah. He knows not, yet may stay. 

Let God inspire his answer, God decide. 

[Enter Irad.] 
Irad, the people of the plains demand you; 
We'd keep you still. Here part the ways: with 
them 



AND OTHER POEMS T 

The false, bright glamour glittering o'er decay 
Which here you learned to loathe; with us long 

years 
Of penance hard and durance, but they form 
Repentant stairs to God. Though jailers we. 
Yet friends we are to save you from yourself. 
Make public choice between us. 

Tubal. Choose, boy, choose. 

We'll back your choice up with our bones and 

brawn; 
And here's my valid signet. {Drawing his sword.) 

Lad, you're pale. 
They give you watery diet. 

Irad. No, I'm well. 

And glad to see your grizzled face. But this, 
What's this that I must do? 

Tubal. Our wines are flat 

Without the boy we miss. Come home with us. 

Irad. What, now.^ 

Tubal. Why not.^ What drowsy 

godliness 
Have you to pack? Come, share the wealth of 

friends. 
We feast the gods to-night. 

Noah. Decide not rashly. 

Strange things you know not are astir to-day 
Might change your choice to-morrow. 

Irad. Had you come 



8 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

But yester-morning ! Blood since then has flowed. 
And made me conscience' captive. 

Tubal. Let it flow. 

We were not born to bleat like lambs, my lad ; 
And our o'er-zealous friend harangued too long. 
'Twas a good blow. 

Irad. Yes, with a single stroke 

I've killed one man and damned another. 

Tubal. Tut, tut! 

I have been damned for centuries and have thrived. 

Irad. I beg an hour ere answering. 

Tubal. What! so cool 

Between our love and dungeons! 

Noah. He is free, 

May go or stay. Send Javan now to us. 
Till then, my lord, you are our guest. 

Tubal. I thank you. 

I'll take a nap and sleep away the time. 
Think on old ties, my boy, think on old ties. 
Who played with you, caroused with you, and stood 
Bestriding you in battle. You'll not find 
Their like in Noah's milk-and-water saints. 
I'll see you in an hour. 

[Exit Tubal-cain and retinue. Music.'] 

Noah. What strains are these? 

Friend. Hither they bring the dead for sunrise 
rite. 
Our last farewell. 



AND OTHER POEMS 9 

Noah {to Irad). Wilt thou withdraw? 
Irad. I'll stay. 

But tell not Javan, add not his reproach. 
Noah. He shall not know to-day. 

[Enter attendants with the body of Enoch.'\ 

Here lay him down. 
Weep not; he journeys to eternal God. 
All weakness which is flesh's heritage 
Falls down like ashes burnt ; and the clear fire. 
Through aether leaping, seeks the sun that gave it. 
Alas, my brother, yet rejoice. Farewell! 

[The Noahites move in procession around the bier, 
each laying a white wreath on it as he speaks.'\ 

First Noahite. Farewell. 
Second Noahite. Farewell. 

Third Noahite. Farewell. 

Fourth Noahite. Farewell. 

Fifth Noahite. Farewell. 



SONG 

Where shall the champion rest. 
The brave, the eager. 

Who filled his Lord's behest 
In field and leaguer? 



10 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

For him all joys are blent, 

Long Sabbath keeping 
Soft in Jehovah's tent, 

Like children sleeping. 

More grand than stone could rear 

His tomb is founded. 
The sea that wraps the sphere. 

Blue and unbounded. 

Farewell ! Hard task have we 

New worlds restoring. 
Some day we'll rest with thee. 

Our God adoring. 

Where the great feast is spread 

And lamps are lighted. 
Shall we beyond the dead 

Be yet united. 

Irad. And shall I also dare to say farewell ^ 
Stern hast thou been, yet may'st relent to know 
Who sent thee hence now mourns. Alas my deed ! 
So far from all I purposed ! Is it true 
That in my veins wells up the ancient curse } 
Am I a thing at odds with life, akin 
To upas-tree and tiger } Must the world 
Kill me or die by me ? In what far years 
Did my dead fathers rob their heirs of hope. 
Blasting their self-control.^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 11 

[Enter Javan.] 

Javan. Where lies our dead? 

Noah. Behold. 

Javan. Can heart so fiery be so still.'* 

Rash was thy tongue and stern, unhappy man. 
Which hath provoked too much some son of Cain. 
Forgive me that in life I jarred with thee. 
Rest happy and farewell. 

Noah. Bear hence the dead. 

And, Javan, as thou lovest Irad well, 
Remain and speak with him. The Cainite lords 
Wait here to bear him back. 

[Exeunt all except Irad and Javan.^ 

Javan. You play with us. 

You cannot think in earnest you will go. 

Irad. Why not? The voice that calls the hom- 
ing wren 
Calls me where I was born. Look down where 

stands 
Cain's ancient city, while the morning hush 
Descends on amphitheater, park, and dome. 
There lie my mother's and my father's graves ; 
There lives my grandsire, Jared, weak and old. 
Who calls for me in vain. There watches Adah, 
My love, abruptly, cruelly left by me. 
Shall these not draw me home ? 

Javan. All there is evil. 

Good with the good should bide, and yoa with us. 



12 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Irad. Ohj never say that all in Cain is evil, — 
That roseate glow in which prosaic life 
Grows beautiful, imperial, strong. To-night 
They hold their feast to Niloh, god of harvest. 
All barriers broken, there the joy of life 
Pours out in flood : all wealth of nature's realm, 
In fruit or blossom or enchanting wine, 
Or mystery of love, the whole night long 
Observed by happy youth ; all wealth of art. 
Heaped up by lake or fountain, piled profuse 
In dome or gallery, pouring on the ear 
In melody to which in earth and star 
Breath universal moves. Is Niloh evil. 
Great source of life and life's romance as well? 

Javan. Yet ever at his name my father frowns. 
Wouldst thou that I should worship Niloh .^ 

Irad. No. 

Javan. Why not, if he is good } 

Irad. He is not good. 

That I unsay; incarnate sin is he; 
But sin that makes all life enchanted ground. 
'Tis virtuous winter here; and I'd be gone. 
Like birds that migrate to the sunny south. 
To find where rapture dwells. 

Javan. Dwells it not here.^ 

Oh, yes, all beauty, joy of youth and bard. 
Untainted and eternal joy. But now. 
On yonder mountain, scratched along the stone, 
I found an old and rainbeat stave of song 



AND OTHER POEMS 13 

Which legends tell that martyred Abel made. 
Men say he used to climb Niphates' peak, 
From whence his eye looked like an eagle down 
On the Forbidden Garden. There he drew 
The beauty of the landscape through his soul 
Like breath through nostrils ; poured it out in song 
That made all life seem miracle. And more, 
Emotion warm as day and vast as night, 
Lives musical among the sons of Seth. 
Stay here with me. You taught me first to know 
The joy of being. I'll teach you in turn 
To find it on our wild and healthful hills. 
Free as in yonder city. 

J^^^o- So you might. 

Came memories not between. Last night I dreamed 
You stood and watched me through a bloody glass. 

And through that glass would watch me evermore. 

Seeing my face as hideous. 

Javan. What is this.? 

Irad. a dream, no more. But dreams like this 
will come 

To break my rest, while here I wait and pine 

In the dull chill of unaccustomed ways, 

A tolerated alien. And in Nod 

Foams the rich wine that makes the heart forget. 

I'll mourn thee, Javan^ more than thou wilt me; 

But go I must. 

Javan. Now by Jehovah, no ! 



14 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Irad. Yea, lad; my will is fixed. We've long 
been friends; 
But now 'tis parting time. 

Javan. So mad ! Then hear 

What still from thee we kept, a truth so dread 
To one whose friends and kindred dwell below 
I'd fain conceal it still. When first you came 
Did not my father tell you earth was doomed ^ 
And that tremendous ship at anchor near. 
High on this mountain lake, a century's work. 
Know you not why he built it.^ 

Irad. Yea, I know. 

Doomsday is coming; but 'tis years away; 
And I and mine may live, be glad, and die. 
Ere the great Deluge swell. 

Javan. Nay, there you err. 

Not years nor months nor even days, but hours 
Shall be your life in Nod. The time is now. 
Even at this moment God's avenging Flood 
Is gathering o'er the nations. 

Irad. You are mad! 

Javan. Look westward where I point. Just 
visible 
Beyond those hilltops lies the ocean shore 
In the blue distance. Look, do you not see 
Strange clouds of smoky mist, that heavenward 
Roll from the deep, and pile themselves aloft 
Like rocks that soldiers pile on city walls 
To hurl upon invaders ? Breeze is none. 



AND OTHER POEMS 15 

And still they stand. But with the night shall blow 
A western wind to drive them, dark with doom. 
O'er earth, and pouring from their cup the sea. 
And hark; with straining ear can you not catch 
From that same west a strange, deep, boding 

sound .^ 
There crack the dykes of ocean ; there awakes, 
Reluctant from the sleep of centuries, 
A monster huger than leviathan. 
The dim, dread deep itself. The hour has come. 
To-day the race of Cain, the land of Nod, 
Rejoice at Niloh's knee. At dawn to-morrow 
Race, god, and country, all that glittering life. 
Its beauty, blasphemy, and glory, and sin. 
Shall pave the ocean bottom. There from the west. 
Where break the fountains of the deep, and loom 
The freighted clouds of judgment, even now 
Comes God to cleanse His world. 

Irad. Eternal Powers ! 

Javan. At noon must all embark, the doors be 
sealed. 
And all on whom those doors shall close, all life, 
Man, bird, or animal, or crawling snake. 
Is doomed. You shall not go! 

Irad. Oh, stand aside! 

Leave me to my own thoughts ! 

[Javan withdraws to the side of the scene.] 

Is this a dream? 



16 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

There's not one thing in field or town or air 
But seems as it hath seemed ten thousand times 
In life's untroubled course. The face of heaven. 
Oft called the countenance of the Living God, 
Appears one kindly smile. And far and near 
With such infectious confidence move on 
The race of men, what heart can help but feel 
With them that all is well ! Worlds should not die 
Puffed out like candles, blown away like mist. 
Yet one I trust declares it so from Heaven. 
O God, if God Thou art, is it not terrible 
To think old homes and ties, ancestral graves, 
Friends once beloved, those landmarks where our 

lives 
Took root and grew, should mix with ocean mud; 
And all we worshiped, loved, and lived for, be 
One blank of waters ! Never, never, never ! 
Heaven would not be so stern. Men mark alone 
The tilted scale ; God knows what mountain loads 
Of human goodness tugged the wavering beam 
With earth's tremendous guilt. It cannot be! 
Be merciful, be merciful, O God ! 

[He throws himself on his face and is silent. Then 
after a pause he speaks again.] 

Suppose it true, shall I in Noah's ark 
Crouch like a dog while friend and kinsman drown ? 
There watch the corpse of Adah drifting by. 
Her hair afloat like sea-weed, and her bosom 



AND OTHER POEMS 17 

Nosed by the shark ; and when the Flood goes down, 
Serve aliens o'er my dead, while from his tomb 
Enoch shall haunt my sleep? 

[Enter Tubal-cain.] 

Oh, is it you? 
Come, brother spirit, you can laugh at death. 
Given or received. Come, and we'll laugh together. 
One whole long day of j oy is ours ; away ! 

Javan. Irad, where go you? 

Irad. Where my people are. 

Into the joy of one last Niloh's feast. 
Into the night where dim oblivion dwells. 
And guilt has peace; where my hot murderer's 

heart 
May sleep as quiet as my great father Cain's ! 
Sorrow to sorrow calls, and crime to crime ; 
And theirs I am for earth and for all time! 

[He rushes away.] 

Tubal. His choice is made. Adieu. 

Javan. One question first. 

Enoch is dead. 

Tubal. I know it. 

Javan. Know it ! How ? 

Were you his murderer? 

Tubal. Think so if you will. 

I'll ne'er object. 



18 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Javan (turning from him). His blood is on 
your soul. 
Forgive me^ Irad, what I dared to think. 
(Calling) Wait, friend, one moment! 

Tubal. Youngster, not so fast. 

You stir not hence a step till he is safe 
O'er yonder boundary where my horsemen wait. 
Javan. Ruffian, I'll dog thy flight but he shall 

hear. 
Tubal. Good friend, you are too young to 
loathe your life. 
Take my advice and bide on Noah's ground. 
There's danger yonder. 

Javan. What fiend made you so strong? 

Tubal. He mounts and rides; they wait for 
me. Farewell. 

[Half drarvs his sword rvith a menacing gesture, 
and exit.] 

Javan. Gone, gone! 

[Enter a Noahite.] 

NoAHiTE. Is Irad fled.'^ 

Javan. Fled to his doom. 

NoAHiTE. God's will is hard. 

Javan. At friendship's call he dies. 

Shall I do less } Look there ! Against the dawn 
How high towers Himenay o'er the mountains 
round ! 



AND OTHER POEMS 19 

Has God not said when seas o'er mountains flowed 
On Himenay's peak the ark should find dry land ? 

NoAHiTE. Even so. 

Javan. Enough ! A god might stand on tiptoe, 
And yet not reach its crest to pull you down. 
What think you, man? 

NoAHiTE. How now? Your looks are wild. 

Javan. Go, bid them bring my horse. 

NoAHiTE. Ride not to-day. 

At noon the doors are sealed ; when that is done 
Noah's own child might knock unheard. 

Javan. Be gone. 

I shall not knock after the doors are sealed. 

Curtain. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. 

Time. The eve of the Deluge. 

Place. The great square in the center of Cain's 
city. In the background is a statue of Niloh, the 
harvest god, "the reaper of delight." On one side 
are lofty buildings; on the other the grounds of a 
magnificent park. Beyond is a glimpse of the 
western horizon piled with strange looking clouds. 
The scene begins at twilight, but night gathers as 
it progresses. A crowd gradually forms around 
the pedestal of the statue. 

[Enter four gallants singing.'] 

First Gallant. 

Come, gather, friends ; one more carouse, 
While stars benign in heaven house. 
And tinkling lyre and torch invite 
To taste the joy of Niloh's night. 

Second Gallant. 

The darkened hours begin to bud 
On Time's old trunk for us to pull ; 
Enchantment warms the lover's blood; 
The vineyard's magic tide is full. 



AND OTHER POEMS 21 

Third Gallant. 

Deem not the gods forbid to drink 
The cup of joy they deign to brew; 
The throned immortals laugh and wink 
At what they would and would not view. 

Fourth Gallant. 

Waste not what Nature ne'er renews; 
She'll warm no more the faded flowers. 
Nor offer twice what we refuse 
When life and lovely youth are ours. 

First Gallant. But remember before we part 
that you are all to come down to-morrow and share 
my villa in the hills. Everything which you wish 
shall be there at your disposal. Would you feast, 
we have loaded our tables with meats and wines. 
Would you hear musicians or see paintings, we have 
the best in Nod. Would you sail on the waters of 
Dreamland, we will launch you with lotus and 
poppy. Nay, if you wish, you may even find the 
roguish Loves playing at hide-and-seek in a corner. 
Gardens are there as pleasant as old Adam's Eden, 
and unlimited time before us to enj oy them. You'll 
come ? 

Second, Third and Fourth Gallants. We'll 
not forget. 

Second Gallant. Will the poet Iban be there .^ 

First Gallant. He joins us later. 

Third Gallant. He is a genius, Iban. 



22 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Fourth Gallant. I preferred Bahran ; he had 

the fire. 
Second and Third Gallants. Oh, no, Iban 

forever! What technique! 
First Gallant. We start at noon to-morrow. 

{It lightens in the west.) 

\_They move on. Two corpses are borne in and 
halted before the shrine. Enter Javan and a 
Cainite.'\ 

Cainite. There stands the shrine; there soon 

your friend must come. 
Javan. What dead are here.^ 
Cainite. It is the poet Bahran. 

Javan. He looks like Irad. Oft my cousin 
praised him. 
Did Heaven love him that he died to-day. 
Or mark him first for wrath } What boy is this ^ 
Cainite. Did you not know.^* He was the 
prettiest lad. 
Bahran left wife and mistress, friend and home 
For love of him, adored him, hung their chamber 
With curtains worth a province, built sweet foun- 
tains 
By which they lay together. 

Javan. Was their bond 

Pure or polluted ^ 

Cainite. Let their foes inquire. 



AND OTHER POEMS 23 

Their friends but say they loved. The boy died 

first. 
He had the fever ; Bahran watched with him ; 
And when he saw the form he loved grow cold. 
He killed himself. "Nor man nor woman more 
Shall share my love/' he said, and speaking died, 
His arms around his playmate. 

Javan. Irad's Bahran. 

Cainite. His home was like a palace, and his 
gardens 
The loveliest thing on earth ; a nation praised him. 

Javan. Where goes he now } 

Cainite. All night to lie in state 

Within the dome. His funeral is to-morrow. 
Sad day 'twill be. Adieu. 

[Exit] 

Javan. He looks like one 

Whose vice entombed a dead and nobler self. 

[He stands aside. Enter a man and woman.] 

Man. Will you not yield .^ It is the lovers' hour. 
Clear trills the bird of love, and twinkling beams 
The orb of lovers. I have wooed you long. 
Why was this beauty given you } Why to me 
This burning blood and power to taste delight ? 

Woman. I have a husband. 

Man. So has many a woman. 

I know a fountain welling up in stone 



34. THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

As fair as you. Its waves are ever sweet. 
Though more than one has tasted. 

Woman. Ever sweet 

While tasted only. Should you plunge and wallow, 
Who'd care to drink that gentle fountain then.^ 
Restrained delight is dearest. 

Man. Not forever. 

Woman. To-night my husband and myself must 
watch 
In Niloh's worship; but, beloved, to-morrow — 
Ah, then — 

Man. Oh, much will mean that word "to- 
morrow" ! 
No eye shall see us where we're lying then, 
Nor any husband know. 

Woman. And now goodnight. 

How sweet is life ! And 'twill be doubly sweet 
To-morrow! (It lightens in the west.) 

[They pass on. Enter Irad.] 

Javan. My cousin Irad! 

Irad. How, misguided boy ! 

What evil genius led your wanderings here 
To-night of all the years ? 

Javan. The name of friend. 

Irad. Wilt share my fortunes, then, and fly with 

me.'' 
Javan. To earth's four windy corners, if you 
will. 



AND OTHER POEMS 25 

Irad. Look yonder where the mountains loom; 
up them 
We'll climb past ocean's reach. 

Javan. Nay, nay, not there. 

In three short days those puny peaks will be 
But rocks in ocean's bed. I've risked my life 
To show a safer way. 'Tis yonder, see. 
Up Himenay's peak ; for there, as God has said, 
After the Flood the ark shall find dry land. 

Irad. That way is long, the Deluge close. 

Javan. No more ! 

Take that or nothing; lesser heights are death. 

[Enter Tubal-cain.] 

Irad. You empty-handed too, nor found our 
friends } 

Tubal. They march in Niloh's column, this I 
learned. 
We'll wait it here and meet them ; better so. 

Irad. I've wasted golden hours in this pursuit 
We ill could spare, and traversed all the town. 
Home, hall, and council chamber. 

Tubal. Well, be calm. 

Long absence weaned you from our life ; this tour 
Of high and low refreshed the faded lines. 
Renewed the picture. 

^RAB. Work of burning pencils 

Were not more vivid. Eager everywhere 



26 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

The people trod each other's heels, as though 
There were a million morrows. 

Tubal. Well, there are. 

Irad. The lords in council voted richer hangings 
Around their hall. Near by were masons laying 
A castle's corner-stone. Beside the way 
I met three children gay as crickets dancing. 
Who, when I asked their cause of gladness, piped: 
"The holidays have come, the holidays 
Begin to-night." And one, a little maid. 
Whose face was like a blossom, cried, "To-morrow 
We'll gather Niloh's roses." Then a mother, 
M'^ith sunken face, but smiling, told a neighbor 
That now her griefs were done, her son, imprisoned 
Long years ago, would be released to-morrow. 
You would have thought the hoarded bliss of earth 
Was in that word "to-morrow." 

Tubal. What's all this.^ 

Irad. I'll let thee know at dawning. 

Tubal. Hark, the music! 

'Tis Niloh's trumpet that the choristers 
Are blowing as they march. Our friends are 
coming. 

[Enter in procession the priests of Niloh, led hy 
the high pontiff. They are dressed in purple 
with golden ornaments, and as emblems carry 
broken fetters. Last in the procession moves 
the blind Jared, led by another priest. They 



AND OTHER POEMS 27 

circle three times around the idol, singing to 
music] 

SONG 

We dwelt in the valley of thunder. 

And the Elohim sat on the edge ; 
The Heavens were holding us under, 

And the lightning came down like a wedge. 
And the cherubim, armored and sworded. 

Flew sentinel, dreadful to see ; 
While like misers we garnered and hoarded 

Life's treasure for ages to be. 
But Niloh came manteled in beauty 

Through the valley of woe and affright; 
He hewed down the thorn-tree of Duty, 

And planted the rose of Delight. 
Through pleasure exulting or tender 

He led us like monarchs released ; 
And he housed us pavilioned in splendor. 

And placed us forever at feast. 
Let our children from cycle to cycle 

Lament that their coffers are void; 
But though Eden is guarded by Michael, 

Despite him we've lived and enjoyed. 
And our fame till the mountains are leveled. 

Like a cloud that the sunset has laved. 
Shall tell in what glory we reveled 

On the wealth that the ages had saved. 



28 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

[Irad draws aside Jared and his companion, while 
the other priests move on.] 

Jared. What voice is this I hear? Is it not 
Irad? 

Irad. Ten moons you heard it not. Is it so dear 
You know it now.^ 

Jared. Ah, boy, these blind old eyes 
Have wept thee many an hour. 

Irad. Your blessing, sir. 

Jared. All Niloh's joys and length of years be 
thine. 

Priest. Your face makes summer in an old 
man's life. 
You'll feast with me to-night } 

Irad. Your pardon, sir; 

I've other work. 

Priest. A-ha! this other work! 

Young blood, young blood! I have been young, 

and known 
What Niloh gave, the wondrous body of youth. 
I am not jealous. 'Tis a sightly night; 
Dark clouds along the west, but clear above. 
How dim the stars are! What's that light that 

burns 
Behind Orion yonder.^ 

Tubal. There's another 

Off to the north, and eastward gleams a third. 



AND OTHER POEMS 39 

Priest. They come and go. There shines 
another out. 
As if a window opened in the sky 
And closed again. 

Javan. Adown the south they gleam 

Like rents in burning walls that part and totter ! 

Priest. What mean these silent fires in open 
heaven ? 

Tubal. Now I was ever a cheery augur, man. 
I deem the gods, carousing in the sky. 
Are sprawled in ecstasy, upsetting round 
Celestial torch and cresset. And if so, 
Why^ well do what we please, and drowsy Heaven 
Be none the wiser. 

Javan. That's a daring jest! 

Tubal. Nay, Sethite; thought so reverent never 
lit 
Thy dingy brain, devising gods of whey. 
Where the Great Reaper, girt with lambent life. 
In life's wild maelstrom which his pulses share. 
Reels on through nodding heaven and rushing star, 
There is a deity, an existence there 
Which scorns your pap and swaddling laws — 
divine ! 

Priest. The western wind blows keen. O'er 
Noah's hill 
How black the tempest heaves ! 

Tubal. I'm still perverse. 

That biggest cloud, just o'er the central peak. 



30 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Appears a giant cask^ that jovial gods 
Would stave o'er earth in oceans. 

Irad. Hark, the music ! 

[Enter a chorus of Bacchants. They wear gar- 
lands in which bunches of grapes are entwined 
with lotus leaves and the flowers of the opium 
poppy. In their hands some carry goblets of 
wine, others leaves of lotus or heads of poppy. 
They circle around the idol, singifig.] 

SONG 

Which has more power, — 

And who shall determine? — 
Fruitage and flower. 

Or king in the ermine ? 
Which has more use 

To heighten life's meaning, 
Petal and juice. 

Or gold of thy gleaning? 
Wrapped in the rind. 

Instilled in the stamen. 
More in its kind 

Than fighter or flamen; 
Stored in the stem. 

Enclosed in the anther, 
Fairer than gem. 

And fiercer than panther; 



AND OTHER POEMS 31 

Deeps of desire 

And manhood amassing^ 
Focused like fire 

On the hour that is passing; 
Doomed by decree. 

And falsely forbidden, — 
Here is the key 

Of the hoard that was hidden. 
Bards beyond count 

Till ages are hoary. 
Fed from the fount. 

Shall sing of its glory. 

A Bacchant. 'Tis Irad. Welcome, welcome 

back to Nod ! 
Bacchants. Ho, Irad, Irad, join the dance with 

us! 
Irad. No, not to-night. Comrades, farewell, 

farewell ! 

[The chorus moves on. Enter a conspirator, ap- 
proaching Javan.'\ 

Conspirator. Hist^ brother. 
Javan. Who are you.? 

Conspirator. Nay, be not strange. 

What will the morning prove? 

Javan. A thing of dread. 

Conspirator. Then he you are to whom they 
sent me here. 



32 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

It works apace. All's ready, all in train; 

Your trumpet blown will throw a kingdom down. 

Javan. When so.'* 

Conspirator. At sunrise ; thus 'tis understood. 

Javan. At sunrise be it. 

Conspirator. Then we'll meet again. 

Laugh, giddy crowd. From mendicant to king. 
None dream but us of what the morn will bring. 
Speed, hours of night ; for while ye hold the sky 
We are but men, as men may fail and die. 
But soon will dawn the wished for day, and we 
Be lords of all the land our eyes can see. 

[He moves on. Enter a chorus of poets and artists 
of all kinds. They hear various instruments 
of their different callings. In their midst on 
a splendid litter they carry Adah, enthroned 
as the Goddess of Beauty and Pleasure. They 
circle the idol and sing.] 

SONG 

Wherefore should art 

Upon conscience be founded, 
Searching the heart 

Like an ocean unsounded.'* 
Why should it point 

To a path for pursuing, 
Vainly anoint 

Eyes weary of viewing? 



AND OTHER POEMS S3 

Art is divine 

But softer and sweeter. 
Lovely in line, 

And mystic in meter; 
Waking the nerve 

O'er the wisdom that slumbers. 
Graceful of curve, 

And noble in numbers. 
Bound in its mesh 

Is the fay that was fleeing, 
Joy of the flesh 

And beauty of being. 
Life in its bowl 

To a drop it condenses. 
Lulling the soul. 

And charming the senses. 
Vainly the years 

Would banish or bind it; 
Deep it inheres, 

And the future shall find it. 

[Adah descends and places her tiara on the knee 
of Niloh. The chorus kneel rvhile she does 
so, and then move on. As Adah turns away 
from the statue she meets Irad.'] 

Adah. Whence comest thou unlocked for } 
Irad. Lo, I'm kneeling 

And weeping, Adah. Thou art pale. How far 
I sinned in flight from what I deemed as sin! 



34 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Adah. Art thou returned? Why didst thou 

leave me so? 
Irad. I'll tell thee later, but forgive me now. 
Adah. From what fair daughter of the race of 
Seth 
Com'st thou to me for change? 

Irad. No woman's face 

Has filled my heart but thine. Thy only rivals 
Were dreams that now are dead. Wilt thou for- 
give me? 
Adah. What else can woman do ? Too well you 
know 
Our hearts are clay where yours are hammered 
steel. 
Irad. Are these hot drops that tremble on my 
cheek 
Like metal plummets ? Do my warm lips feel 
Like chilling iron? 

Jared. Clasp each other close. 

'Tis Niloh's night, and Niloh's blessing falls 
On love and lovers. I'm a gray old stump, 
But in my children's joy my youth reblossoms. 

^Enter a procession of young men and women 
marching in couples chained together with 
flowers, and accompanied hy little children 
dressed as Loves. They circle around the idol, 
and sing.^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 35 

SONG 

Why should the bee 

Become bound if it settle. 
Whose flight might be free 

From petal to petal? 
Why should the pear 

Fall fresh and untasted ? 
Or unbreathed be the air 

Round the jasmine, and wasted? 
Why should we thirst 

Among fountains for quaffing? 
Why two be accurst 

When both might be laughing? 
Why was the sun 

Made common and cheering 
If light we should shun. 

Or feed on it fearing? 
Strength may decay. 

But its uses are over; 
The puny can play. 

And the least be a lover. 
God is ensealed 

In the peach, as its Former; 
But more sweetly revealed 

In what's rounder and warmer. 
Hosts have no hire. 

And archers are idle. 
While Youth and Desire 

Go marching to bridal. 



36 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

The Men. Ho, Irad, Irad, clasp thy love and 
come ! 

The Women. Come, Adah, come! Ten moons 
thy life was cold 
Because thou loved'st one, and he is here. 
The night is Niloh's; clasp thy love and come! 

I RAD. Stern gods forbid. Playmates, farewell, 
farewell ! 

Javan. Let us go hence ! God comes at dawn. 

I RAD. Yea, true. 

Grandfather^ Tubal-cain, draw near to me. 
'Tis Niloh's night when he is lord supreme; 
His slightest breath we must obey as law. 
But now, delivered through his aged priest. 
To me his summons came. He bids us all. 
Before his hour is past, in pilgrimage 
To seek his temple on Mount Himenay, 
A rite that all should do, that never yet 
Our family have done. Our horses wait 
All ready saddled, and the god commands. 
Our servants are at hand, all things prepared. 
Let us be gone. 

Jared. Ha, ha, impulsive boy ! 

Is Adah's heart so hard to reconcile. 
Her love so unlike others, nought will serve 
But holiest ground ; and we must post all night 
To find what's here at home? Come, lad, I'm old. 
Unfit for such wild gallops. Niloh's orders, — 



AND OTHER POEMS 37 

Oh, well, I know him; he's a kindly god; 

He'll wink and laugh. Be reasonable, stay here. 

Irad. I have a litter borne on horses near 
For you and Adah. Come ! 

Adah. Wait here till morning. 

We'll travel warm in sunlight where the road 
Winds high above the sightly earth, and look 
For miles below us. All the land will be 
One glorious picture in the light to-morrow. 
We'd lose all this at night. 

Irad. 'Twill be a picture — 

No, let that rest. Oh, haste! What comes ere 

dawn 
Would j ustify a hundred times as much. 

Tubal. A storm is blowing up ; look over there. 
'Twill strike us now before we reach the mountain. 
Stay here by j oily fires and good dry halls ; 
Who'd wander drenched among the rainy woods 
Such nights as this will be.^ 

Jared. Feel how the wind 

Is rushing from the west. My aching bones 
Do prophesy an evil night for them. 
There comes the thunder. 

Javan. What a flash was that! 

It looked as if the floor of heaven were split. 
And eyes could peer beyond. 

Adah. What lights are those 

Which move like spreading cracks along the sky ? 
There's something strange abroad. O Irad, stay! 



38 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

I RAD. By heaven, I've reasons such as ne'er were 
man's. 
We race with death. On, ere that tempest come ! 

Tubal. We are not children; give us reasons 
why. 
And I'll ride with you to the devil's jaws. 
Without them I'll not budge. 

Irad. Are we alone.'' 

Tubal. No soul but us. 

Irad. Then listen. As I reached the town 
to-day. 
Kneeling in Niloh's temple to make prayer 
For my success, — 'twas the hour, Tubal-cain, 
When you had left me on your own affair, — 
The high priest saw me there, and drawing me 
Apart behind the altar said: "Young man, 
I love your family well, and this you know ; 
But there are others here whose hate to you 
Is deep as is my love. In Niloh's name 
I order you and yours on pilgrimage 
To Himenay's top ; and see that you be gone 
Before the midnight ring. If here you stay, 
I say not whether wrath of gods or men. 
But something you must fear." 

Jared. Ah, there it is. 

I've watched them creeping into coil; and now 
They'd strike on Niloh's eve. Well, well, we'll go. 
Better the rain a-patter on our heads 
Than daggers in our ribs. 



AND OTHER POEMS 39 

Tubal. Yes, get to horse ! 

To-night weTl ride for life ; but red will be 
Our reckoning when the fatal see-saw turns. 

Jared. Are we provisioned for a siege like this ? 
Tubal. The stores of years are in the temple 

vaults. 
Irad. On, on! for fast and dread are those 
behind ! 

[Exeuntl 
Curtain. 



Scene II. 

Time. Somewhat later on the same night. 
Place. A ferry at the foot of Mount Himenay. 
[Enter Javan, an attendant, and the ferryman.'] 

Attendant. Here lies the landing; here the 
rest must gather. 
We'll hunt no more through night and mud; wait 
here. 

Ferryman. Then more are coming? 

Attendant. We lost them in the dark. 

Have you a boat to ferry us to the mountain.'' 

Ferryman. It lies below. 

Javan. Go you and see it ready. 

I'll wait them here. 

[Exeunt attendant and ferryman.] 

Whom wait I? What are these, 
My cousin's people.'* Is he one with them, 
A part of that I've seen.^ From what wild forces 
Arose a world so beauteous and so bad } 
Where, where and what am I, and what the future 
That waits for me and Irad^ drifting far 
From safe tradition o'er uncharted seas.'' 
God of my fathers^ reach me down Thy hand. 
That I may clasp it in the night. I fear. 



AND OTHER POEMS 41 

[Enter an overseer of the farming district and a 
merchant.] 

Is Irad come? Are ye his followers? 

Merchant. Nay. 

Overseer. Nay, if by Irad you mean lord Irad 
of the great city, we come even now from discard- 
ing his livery. Many a year these estates were his 
and his mother's before him. They have nourished 
his pleasures well, though they never saw his face. 
Now his reign is out; let them serve the pleasures 
of others. 

Javan. These, then, are Irad's lands? 

Merchant. They were, sir, but are no longer. 
For all these ancestral acres his claim is forfeited. 
At sunrise they're mine. 

Overseer. You will find them sadly dilapidated. 
Nowadays men drive estates, like horses, till they 
drop. Present gain, present gladness, that's all 
they think of; and the accounts of the future may 
be settled by the poor devils who're born then. 

Merchant. Well, sir, why should not the men 
of the future pay the bills of the future ? 

Overseer. Because, saving your worship, the 
world doesn't go that way. Our fathers laid foun- 
dation for our prosperity; and if we lay none for 
our sons, who shall? 

Merchant. If our fathers worked so hard to 
make us happy, heaven forbid that we should dis- 



42 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

appoint them. The toil of their vine-dressing effer- 
vesces in our wines ; the sweat of their masons floats 
in cool breezes through our summer villas ; the ach- 
ing eyes of their weavers have made the couch of 
my mistress downy. Every pleasure which I deny 
myself means that a day's work of some ancestor 
was done for nothing. 

Overseer. Think of these roads they built, these 
dams and granaries of hewn stone. We use them 
while they last, and, instead of repairing them, 
spend our surplus on baths and pavilions. Yonder 
our fathers ditched morasses into meadows; and 
now the children gulp down the profits and let the 
meadow sink back into a morass. They are so 
busy squandering money in midnight banquets 
that they cannot stop for mending a rotten sluice to 
preserve the patrimony of their children. 

Merchant. 'Tis meadow yet; 'twill last our 
lifetime. (Aside to Javan.) But tap one of these 
ancient barrels with hoary cobwebs around its chin, 
and out spurt the praises of "the good old days." 
{Aloud.) You have a wide variety here in your 
farming. 

Overseer. We raise everything which the mar- 
ket demands; all kinds of drugs, from lotus and 
poppy for making your friend happy to hemlock 
and strychnine for making your enemy sad; wines 
and sauces in abundance; and all these other new- 
fangled notions which, after a thousand years of 



AND OTHER POEMS 43 

comfort, men have suddenly discovered to be neces- 
sities of life. Also our hillsides rear boys and 
women, though they grow not on stalks; but that 
lucrative industry is a special perquisite of others 
than the landlord. 

Javan (aside). Is this the tillage which re- 
places the sweet gums and orchards of Eden.'' 
(Aloud.) What parodies of humanity come here.'* 

[Enter six laborers.'] 

Overseer. Yonder men are laborers on the 
estate. 

Merchant. What a dog's life is that ! Why do 
these fools persist in living when they're so cadav- 
erous that the light shines through them.^ 

Overseer. For the same reason that your fine 
nobles persist in living when their nerves are so 
racked with feasting that hell squirms through 
them. 

Javan. What work can so deface the body God 
made } 

Overseer. No two have the same. The first 
works in the poppy fields ; the second's a mason on 
the new villa ; the third raises herbs for a sauce ; the 
fourth cultivates silkworms for ladies' mantels; 
and the last two serve the cause of art. 

Javan. How so.^ 

Overseer. One of them quarries out marble for 



44 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

our finest sculptors, and the other forges metal for 
the best harps in the city. 

Javan. Did they ever see statue or hear harp ? 

Overseer. They see nothing but work and 
hear nothing but threats. How else should I raise 
my lord's revenue.^ 

Javan. And how long do they last before 
nature takes pity on them? 

Overseer. Some three years, some five. There 
are plenty more when these are gone. 

Merchant. I confess that I am never more 
happy than in the presence of these wretches; for 
then, like one whose fortunes are safe while 
another's are burning^ I thrill with the sense of my 
own blessedness. What says the song of Bahran.^ 

Life that is pink in the sky and the maiden's cheek, 

And the peach when it flowers. 
Life that has tasted much and has more to seek. 

Is ours, is ours. 
What the grudging old gods had meant for the 
many, distills 

Its bliss for the few. 
The vineyards and fruits that grow on a thousand 
hills 

Are for me and you. 

Leave the bird in the net. 

And the bud o'er the scythe; 

Let the laborer sweat. 



AND OTHER POEMS 45 

And the sufferer writhe; 
To the camel his load, 
To the Sethite his code ; 
But the dream of the magic herb, and our myrtle 

bowers. 
Where we eat of the substance of others, are glad, 

and forget. 
All that Old Eden possessed, and what Eden ne'er 
showed. 
Are ours, are ours. 

Well, let us go in. There's a fearful storm 
mustering overhead; pray heaven it hurt not my 
crops or buildings ! 

Overseer (moving away, while a faint gleam of 
light gives his face a momentary likeness to a 
death's-head). I will report, sir, in the morning, 
that we may take a survey of your new property 
together. 

[Exeunt overseer and merchant.^ 

Javan. What men are these, whose rustic cots 
have life 
Wondrous and wicked as the town's itself.'* 

[He sits down in a small arbor which conceals him 
from the center of the scene.] 

The fatal hours run on, yet wherefore fear.^ 
Things worse there are than death, that threaten 
here. 



46 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

First Laborer. Ugh! I'm tired. 

Second Laborer. Rain coming. 

Third Laborer. Let it come. 

Fourth Laborer. Give me a mouthful. IVe 
no food. 

First Laborer. Not I. 

Second Laborer. Nor I. 

Third Laborer. Every man for himself. 

Fourth Laborer. No drink either.'' I'm faint. 

First Laborer. None to spare. 

Fourth Laborer. I've worked day and night. 

Second Laborer. Who hasn't.^ 

Fourth Laborer. One drink, as you'd like it 
yourself. 

Third Laborer. Not I. Will your guzzling 
wet my gullet.^ 

Fifth Laborer. Wild night up there. 

Sixth Laborer. What's the difference to us ? 

First Laborer. We work, rain or shine. 

Second Laborer. Look there. (Shows broken 
handS) 

Third Laborer. Well, what of it ? 

Second Laborer. That's what we masons have 
to work with. 

First Laborer. That's nothing. Look what we 
do. 

Fifth Laborer. Raise lotus and poppies ? 

First Laborer. Break men's backs to put 
gentlemen dreaming. 



AND OTHER POEMS 47 

Fourth Laborer. Got any lotus ? 

First Laborer. Some I stole. No, you don't 
get it. 

Third Laborer. And we kill ourselves to make 
a sauce. 

Sixth Laborer. What for.^ 

Third Laborer. To make gentlemen hungry. 

Fourth Laborer. Let them fast. 

Second Laborer. Not they; they're always 
feasting. 

Third Laborer. And the sauce keeps them 
healthy and hungry. 

Fifth Laborer. Yes, and poor men starve a 
year to get them one meal of birds' tongues. 

Third Laborer. That what you do ? 

Fifth Laborer. Not now. Working in quarry. 
See there. (Shows scars.) 

Sixth Laborer. Stone for building.^ 

Fifth Laborer. No, statues. 

Fourth Laborer. One leaf of poppy .^ 

First Laborer. Get out ! Can't you earn your 
own supper.^ 

Fourth Laborer. I ought to. I work hard 
enough. 

First Laborer. Doing what.'' 

Fourth Laborer. Weaving silk mantels. I'm 
going blind at it. 

Sixth Laborer. So am I. 

Second Laborer. What, working in the forge .f* 



48 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Sixth Laborer. Yes, the glare burns my eyes. 

Third Laborer. Ugh, I dreamed I was a lord 
last night. 

First Laborer. The more fool you. 

Third Laborer. Kept others working while I 
feasted. 'Twas fine. 

Fifth Laborer. Dreams go by contraries. 

Third Laborer. Thought I got angry and 
killed two of them. 

Sixth Laborer. Look out or they'll kill you. 

Second Laborer. Much he'd care or any of us. 

First Laborer. That's right. What good's life 
to us.^ 

Fourth Laborer. If I could only go to sleep 
to-night and know I'd never wake up again, I'd be 
happy. 

Sixth Laborer. So would I. 

Third Laborer. Only I wish the rich could die 
too to make things even. 

Fifth Laborer. No hope of that. Come, we'll 
crawl off to our kennels. 

Sixth Laborer. And to work again in the 
morning. 

[Ea;eunt laborers. Enter Irad, Tubal-cain, Adah 
and ferryman.] 

Ferryman. Be not angry, sir ; 'tis a slight delay. 
We had not dreamed that any would tempt the 
ferry to-night. 



AND OTHER POEMS 49 

Tubal. Sit down^ man^ and be calm. We have 
driven as if Panic were our jockey. Your lunatic 
haste will mean nothing but final delay. To brain 
our guide for misleading us, — that is a hopeful way 
of making speed. 

Irad. Ah, you know not what Terror pursues 
me. But indeed I meant not to kill him. 

Ferryman. Step within, sirs, and be sheltered. 
The boat will be here in a moment. 

[Exeunt all except Irad and Adah. They seat 
themselves near the arbor, in which Javan 
remains unseen.^ 

Irad. Nay, Adah, stay with me ; this bench for 
us. 
Love keeps apart and private. Twine our fingers. 
We plunge in darkness; and we'll feel, like children, 
Less frightened hand in hand. 

^°^H. How black it grows. 

How wild o'erhead ! Strange air for Niloh's night. 
Thy flesh is cold that should be warm with love. 
Is't weariness or fear.^ 

^^^^- Press closer, love; 

Let thy warm bosom beat away my fear. 
What think'st thou, Adah — if our death be nigh. 
Is life beyond the grave .^ 

Adah. Oh, far beyond 

Our quick, warm youth the grave. Why should we 
vex 



50 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Our soul for what's beyond that dim beyond? 
Here grow the flowers of love to-night, and thus 
I pluck them while they bloom. 

Irad. May they be green 

In memory long. But sleepless visions here, 
Upleaping from the downy present, pace 
The cold, dark, echoing future. 

Adah. Morbid fancies. 

Recall that nursery rime the children sing: 

The present is a festal bark. 
In which we float o'er waters dark. 
While in the present still we dwell 
The banquet waits and all is well. 
When from the present forth we leap 
We drown in ocean strange and deep. 

We'll change our theme. My too forgetful lover 
Did never ask me how the moments fled 
When he was absent. 

Irad. Let me hear thee tell; 

'Twill charm my gloom away. 

Adah. Long every hour 

Unshared with thee, and sad. I never knew 
How mournful harp and flute, how empty seem 
The marble hallway and the echoing stair 
Till then. And waking lonely, I have often 
Clasped the cold moonlight reaching out for thee. 
Pressed my warm bosom on the chilly paving. 



AND OTHER POEMS 51 

And buried in the unresponsive night 
The kiss that begged return. 

^^^»- No more thou shalt; 

Forgive me, love. Were all thy kindred kind.? 
Were wealth and comfort yours } 

^^A«- Unbounded wealth, 

All ancient Elmin owned; for Elmin's dead. 
And we his heirs. 

Irad. Old age has claimed him then.? 

Adah. It might be age, or else an ointed gown 
My brother gave him when he lived too long. 
I never asked, not I. You shudder, dear ; 
Is it the damp night wind.? 

i^^^' No, no, go on. 

Adah. But bitter 'twas to watch the love of 
others, 
Happy while I was loveless ; when dim night 
Barred out the world's intrusion, to remember 
What was and what might be. Eldanah's palace 
Lay next to ours. He and his gentle lady 
Were glad as once were we. 

I^^»- Did not Eldanah, 

For so I heard, wed his own daughter ? 

Adah. Yes. 

Why not .? 'Tis common now. They grew together 
Like bough and bud. Heaven willed it. 

Irad (aside). Did it so.? 

And what said Noah then, and Noah's God .? 



52 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Adah. True love was that. They prized each 
other dearly; 
And when he perished, murdered, none know how, 
His daughter pined and died, and sleeps with him. 

Irad. Know'st thou what Noah would have told 
thee, Adah, 
Had he but heard .^ 

Adah. I half believe I know. 

Irad. He would have said like breath from 
charnels blew 
Through thy dear lips the life that God forbade ; 
And, quoting God, had told what murder means, 
And incest; what dread ripples roll from them. 
Which make them crime. He'd ask how you so 

calmly 
Could plaster o'er the stain of blood, and paint 
The bridal blush on love's unnatural leer. 

Adah. And would his whilom pupil say it too .^ 

Irad. I might, but words are breath. 

Adah. Hast thou unlearned 

Thy former life.^ Hadst thou been Elmin's heir. 
Poor, one old man between thy hopes and thee. 
And he the man of men thy soul did hate. 
Here tedious prose and his triumphant sneer. 
And there delight and revel and revenge, — 
Would Elmin live? Couldst thou not hear the call 
Of life and freedom summoning to enjoy.'' 
Already thou hast heard it, at its call 
Shed Enoch's blood, as others that of Elmin. 



AND OTHER POEMS 53 

[Javan starts violently.] 
Or had I been thy daughter^ dear as now, 
Would'st thou inquire what fountain poured the 

wave 
That cooled thy thirst? Oh, you have learned by 

heart 
Some parrot words; but look on life itself 
As these beheld it ; glad are Elmin's heirs, 
Sweet was Eldanah's love. Wilt thou recant 
The creed of years ? Canst thou not feel as I ? 

I RAD. And if I could, God give me strength to 
keep 
That feeling ever dumb! 

Adah. Again you shudder. 

As though with fear. 

Irad. Know you the fairy tale 

We heard as children, how a mermaid dwelt 
With men till she grew human .^ But one day. 
On the blue edge of ocean, while she heard 
Its far^ unearthly music calling, calling. 
The strange old longing of the deep came back. 
And drew her downward, half as mermaid longing 
For that dim fatherland, and half as mortal 
Afraid to drown. And while she felt the waters 
Roll deeper, deeper as they claimed her, then 
She shuddered too. 

Adah. But yet became a mermaid. 

Irad. No, there the story halted. If I tell it 
To son of mine, how shall I end it, how ? 



54 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

[Unnoticed hy them, Javan steals from the arbor, 
and moves to the other side of the scene, where 
he meets an attendant.] 

Javan. Are you lord Irad's man ? 

Attendant. I am. 

Javan. I pray you. 

If he shall ask you for a friend called Javan, 
Tell him these words of mine : There is a legend 
That Lucifer and Michael love each other, 
But never meet nor can, so clash and jar 
The adverse worlds in which they move; and I 
Love Irad ever, but we meet no more. 
Goodby. I ride for Noah's mountain. 

Attendant. Stay, 

My youthful lord. The night is wild ; ere dawn 
Streams will be freshets and the bridges lost. 
You risk your life to go. 

Javan. I dare not stay. 

If fortune aid me I shall live to-morrow. 
But if I die, and future ages know 
Three sons of Noah only, better that 
Than what is here. Forget not thou my message. 

[He moves on and vanishes in the darkness. Enter 
Tubal-cain and ferryman.] 

Tubal. The boat is ready. But by my advice 
Here shall we bide. I never viewed a sky 
Like that to westward. Come but here and look. 



AND OTHER POEMS 55 

Earth seems not earth beneath it. Here are herds- 

men_, 
Who swear the sea is loose, and tidal waves 
Abroad on inland plains. Hark ! was that thunder. 
Or earthquake's rumble.^ 

Ferryman. Yonder cloud wiU burst, 

A liquid avalanche. Mark the sapling crouch. 
The lake blown into white-caps. Rushing mist 
Rides up the peak before us. You are mad 
To journey further. 

^^^^' Those are mad who stay. 

Death gallops fast behind our heels. Away! 

(Exeunt,) 
Curtain. 



ACT III. 

Time. The small hours of the morning on the 
same night. 

Place. A cave part way up Mount Himenay. 
It is dark, save for the faint gleam of lightning that 
comes through the entrance. A fearful uproar, 
though somewhat muffled, is heard from without. A 
narrow passage winds back into further recesses of 
the cave ; and from here comes the noise of fighting 
and dying groans. 

Enter Mizraim from the passage, as if in fear. 
He hides in a cleft of the rock. Enter a 
wounded man, who falls with a groan and dies. 
The noise within grows less, and is wholly lost 
in the roar of the storm. Then enter from 
without Irad carrying Adah, Tubal-cain, Jared 
carried by servants, and several attendants.] 

Irad. Hello ! 

Others. Hello ! 

Irad. A cave. Turn in and halt. 

An Attendant. This rain is more than human 
strength can bear. 
It weighs us down like pushing hands. My god ! 
How good it seems to rest ! Will nothing lift 
This blinding bandage of the night? 



AND OTHER POEMS 57 

Tubal. A torch. 

Be careful there; the wind will blow it out. 

Irad. More torches, quick, beneath this boulder's 
lee. 
Hold one above her face ; I think she swooned. 
Stand over it; the air comes eddying down. 
And makes it flare. 

An Attendant. It blows a hurricane. 

Another Attendant. What awful medley of 
unearthly sounds 
Is that keeps rolling from the plain below 
Through this blind horror.? Oh, for one short 

glimpse 
Of what earth looks like now ! The very flashes 
Are drowned in rain, one solid mass of blackness. 
What's that which happens down below.? Who 
teUs.? 
Irad. Here, fold my cloak together for her 
pillow. 
And give me yours to wrap her. Bring some wine. 
She stirs; her eyes are opening. 

Adah. Where am I ? 

Irad. Safe here with me ; we're on Mount Him- 

enay. 
Adah. Is the rain ended.? 

Irad. No, we're in a cave. 

Jared. Hark, Irad, Tubal-cain, do you not hear 
Through all the rushing of the storm, and splash 
Of driving water.? Hark, what sounds are those.? 



58 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Irad. You're happy not to know. 

Tubal (going to the entrance). More fast and 
keen 
It lightens; now we'll tell what floods are loose. 
There comes a flash would light the ocean bed 
Through solid brine, and shows — 

Jared. What, what.^ (No answer.) 

Speak^ man. 

Irad (going to entrance). All black again. I'll 
tell you when it comes. 

Jared. There, there! That peal was like a 
crashing world. 
You must have seen. (Pause.) Speak, Irad, where 
are you ? 

Irad. I'm at thy side ; and, as for what I've seen. 
Bless Heaven that made thee blind. 

Jared. Thy voice is hollow. 

Like breath from Horror's chamber. Where's thy 

hand ? 
'Tis Irad's hand. Go on. 

Irad. Before I fled 

From Noah's tent, they told me, and confirmed. 
No matter how, that that dread God of theirs. 
Incensed at earth for His neglected shrine. 
Prepared to-night to drown the world. I fled; 
And with such frail excuse as time allowed 
By lies have led you up this mountain peak. 
And saved you so. For know that Noah's God 
Has kept His word. Already fathoms deep. 



AND OTHER POEMS 59 

And deeper every moment, whirl the floods 
O'er Nod and all its people. 

Jared. You are mad! 

Speak^ friends, where are you all? It cannot be. 
Oh, for one hour of blessed sight to know 
What things and whom to trust ! 

Irad. Can you not hear.^ 

Is that dread sound that slowly gathering grows 
Aught that you ever heard in life before .^^ 

Tubal. 'Tis true, old man. What forces are 
at work 
Let priests inquire ; but all the world is sea. 

Adah. Where art thou, Irad } What alarms you 
aU.? 

Irad. Say nothing yet. (To Adah.) Rest, 
dear, we all are safe. 
'Tis a wild night, and tragic things, I fear. 
Have happened elsewhere; but they touch not us. 

Adah. The hour of love has rung. We'll build 
our bower 
In some dim grotto winding far within. 
Hast thou forgot what hallowed night is this. 
Made doubly dear by waiting .f* 

Irad. Nay, but years 

Remain for that; postpone all pleasure now. 
O Adah, this has been a fearful night; 
And dying groans are floating up the sky 
As thick as rain. 

Adah. But we, we are alive. 



GO THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

I RAD. I'm sick at heart. Nay, Adah, talk no 
more 
Of love to-night, but tend me as a nurse. 
That, lapsing back to childhood, I may lose 
All memory of the present. 

Adah. What strange mood 

Is this on Niloh's eve ? Yet have your will. 
For, truth, your eyes are lit with fever's gleam. 
Untimely thoughts are there, like stars of night 
In wells at noonday. Rest, I'll be thy nurse. 

ITubal-cain in examining the cave discovers Miz- 
raim. ] 

Tubal. Who's here.^ 

MizRAiM. Oh, mercy, grant me mercy, sir I 

Tubal. Come here and show your face. A 
stripling boy. 
Why skulk these dainty limbs in such a den 
On night as wild as this .^ 

MizRAiM. But spare my life. 

Tubal. Perhaps I will when thou canst show me 
cause. 
March here between the torches, full in view, 
In our mid circle. Throw thy weapon down. 
And now be prompt and pointed when I ask. 
First then, your name. 

MizRAiM. Mizraim. 

Tubal. Your parents who ? 



AND OTHER POEMS 61 

MizRAiM. None know but Niloh, from whose 
rites I sprung. 

Tubal. A goodly pedigree, yea, common too 
In our abstemious race. How came you here.'' 

MizRAiM. I marched among the rebel host of 
late. 
And when our army broke and scattered wide 
Before Togarmah, here the remnant fled, 
A handful merely. Here the others died 
This very night, and I was left alone. 

Tubal. How died they all ? 

MizRAiM. In quarrel o'er the spoil. 

Which rose at feast when heads were hot with wine. 
Perhaps you doubt my word ; then come with me 
Down yonder passage. There you'll find them all 
Still palpitating, warm, nay, some in whom 
Yet lingers life. 

Tubal. Go on, I follow thee, 

My knife against thy neck. Deceive me not. 

[^Exeunt Tuhal-cain and Mizraim.] 

Irad. Draw back in darkness. 

Adah. Why unsheathe your blade, 

And point your javelin at that line of light.'* 
The dead are harmless. 

Irad. And the living, liars. 

Behind me, love; I would not for the world 
Have ill betide thee. 

Adah. Thou art brave and strong; 



62 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

And Tubal-cain is of the giants old. 
Why need we fear? 

Irad. I fear not for myself. 

God bless thee^ Adah. Ne'er till danger's hour 
Knew I how dear I held thee. Here they come. 

[Re-enter Tuhal-cain and Mizraim.'] 

Tubal. Well^ such is human folly. There they 
lie 
Amid the wealth they died for, piled like logs 
In rotten woodlands, every fool in turn 
A murderer and a victim. 

Jared. All are dead? 

Tubal. Some dead, some dying, all past mischief 
now. 

Irad. Methought I heard them groan. 'Twere 
mercy's part 
To ease their dying hours. 

Tubal. Nay, let them lie ; 

They're nought to us. Now, sir, come here again. 
I fought with those before Togarmah's fort. 
Your adversary there. What blight came down 
To shrivel up your fine array so fast ? 
We looked defeat in the face ; and, presto ! change ! 
Our dread snow-man had melted. 

Mizraim. Those rich valleys 

Were too indulgent for a soldier's life. 
And drinking deep all joys of nature there. 
We lost our pith and edge; found pleasure soft. 



AND OTHER POEMS 63 

Ambition hard and foolish; passed the word 
From ear to ear_, till our whole host became 
A martial farce, a flimsy, painted cloth, 
Which war's first rumor blew to tatters. 

Tubal. So. 

A set of puny boys, whom pleasure melts 
Like ice in August. We old veterans, too. 
We had our joys; but we could stand the pace. 
Yet, half our army being young like you. 
Had you but charged that night instead of fleeing. 
You had found us rotten ramparts. Such is life. 
Well, sit you there. We'll give you orders later. 

Irad. Is this the nation of the giants. Nod, 
Whose armies, like colliding thunder-clouds. 
Jarred earth in meeting ? Have we fallen to this ? 

Tubal. Oh, we have warriors yet can whack a 
helmet. 
Old hoary-heads; but these green boys are fog. 
Just sixty years ago that very field 
Saw such a shocking where our armies clashed 
As would have stunned them with its noise alone. 

[Enter from without Ihan and several revelers.^ 

I BAN. If ye be men whom e'er compunction 
touched. 
Beauty, or love of art, receive us kindly. 
I am the poet Iban, these my friends. 
Shipwrecked but now against this mountain's base. 



64 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Half dead from bruising rock and pounding wave, 
And rain that weighs like lead. 

Irad. 'Tis he himself. 

Welcome, old friend, familiar faces here 
You see, and kindred bosoms. 

Iban. Praise the gods ! 

What, Irad, Tubal-cain, can this be true.^ 
The muses guard their own. 

Tubal. Sit down, sit down. 

You're white and pant like deer. 

Iban. Have ye a fire.^ 

I've ocean dripping from my back; and all 
The clouds of heaven have soaked me. 

Irad. Nought but torches. 

MizRAiM. So please you, sir, within the further 
cave 
Is fuel plenty. Only give the word. 
This crevice was our fireplace. 

Irad. Quickly then. 

[Mizraim brings out fuel from within and starts a 
fire.] 

Iban. What boy is that.^ 

Irad. Last of a bandit gang ; 

The rest have killed each other. 

Iban. What's his future.^ 

Do you adopt him .^ 

Irad. 'Twas but now we found him. 



AND OTHER POEMS 65 

Tubal. Nay^ no adopting waif and stranger 
here 
To load us down. We'll use his wits to-night, 
To-morrow end him. 

Jared. Ay, the simplest way. 

We've servants all we need. 

Irad. Now God forbid ! 

Is he not human, feeling joy and grief 
To which our natures echo, kindred man } 

Tubal. Why, yes, he has a heart, a pair of 
lungs. 
Like us or wolves or jackals. What of that.^ 
He'll profit nought to me ; if you enj oy him. 
Why, keep him then. 

Jared. 'Twill be another mouth. 

Why stint our guests and us for God knows who ? 

Irad. Is there no joy in grateful eyes, no pang 
In dying groans, when dreams identify 
Our lives with those we mold.^ 

Tubal. Why should there be.^ 

This comes from Noah, sounds like old wives' tales 
Of amputated stumps and aching limbs. 

Iban. Ay, Noah's folly. Sweeter far is love 
When focused warm, intense in narrow ring. 
Than thus diffused. 

Tubal. "Glad homes," the proverb says, 

"Are lined with love and moated round with blood." 

Iban. Friend, favorite, mistress, these are magic 
words ; 



66 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Outside, — what matters ? Yet this boy is fair ; 
And beauty is too rare and hardly won 
For reckless usage. Let us keep him still. 

Jared. Ay, now you mention it, his step is light. 
And soft his voice as woman's. Fair, you say. 
Would I could see him. 

Tubal. Ah, our reverend friend 

Begins to feel the spell of Niloh's mount. 

Jared. Come hither, lad. {Misraim ap- 
proaches.) Thou'rt comely, I am told. 
The only eyes which blindness has are these. 
That yet would view thy beauty. {Feels his face.) 

Every line 
Like chiseled marble ; and this healthy warmth 
Declares the blush of youth. I like thee well. 
What say'st thou, lad.^ Wilt thou be friends with 

me. 
The solace of my age, as Bahran's boy 
Was joy to him.'' 

Mizraim (with a quick glance around). Yea, 
sir, if so you will. 

I RAD. Sir, I implore you, let this matter wait. 
In hourly danger still, no time have we 
For aught but vigilance to save our lives. 
Our safety's first of all. 

Tubal. The lad is right. 

All things in proper time. Hear reason, man. 
And you, gay youngster, shall be butler here. 
For your dead band had cellars. Come with me. 



AND OTHER POEMS 67 

[During the following dialogue between Irad and 
Ihan, Mizraim and the attendants, under the 
direction of Tuhal-cain, bring in from the 
further cavern an extemporized banquet table, 
and load it with all the paraphernalia belong- 
ing to a splendid feast.'] 

Iban {aside to Irad). A sickening offer, dotage 
wooing fear. 
And profanation of that tender tie 
For which poor Bahran died. 

Irad {aside to Iban). The scene fits well 

With that outside. If eyes above look down 
What thoughts must be in heaven. 

Iban. Yea, the gods 

Will smile behind the scenes. Yet, after all. 
So dear the hours of youth and young delight. 
Who'd blame the old, though loth to let them go.^ 

Irad. How shall I judge a man who caUous thus. 
Yea, o'er the deathbed of his fatherland. 
Affronts both God and nature's whispering law } 
And this but sample of a lifetime gone. 
As well I know. 

Yet not through blood alone but deeper ties 
He bids me pause in judgment. That gray beard 
Has wagged above my boyhood's play, and drooped 
Tear-drenched o'er beds of fever. Hours I've sat 
Perched on his knee, while we like statesmen 
weighed 



68 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

The worth of hobby-horses^, balls^ and drums^ 
Tin catapults and bastions. Then in youth 
My exploits made him weep with joy; he'd cheer me 
Did I compete for prize in dance or song. 
And hang the tiger's pelt with golden claws 
Because his boy had killed it. Gracious heaven ! 
When thus the flower and stinking weed entwine. 
Which shall we count the man .^ 

Iban. You're too severe. 

View human follies close with candid eye. 
Not thus through Noah's twisted lens, you'll find 
The sin that plucks an apple through a fence 
Is venial, ay, and universal too. 
The strife 'twixt law and longing sweetens life. 
And there romance is born. 

Irad. So once thought I. 

I had begun to reason otherwise. 

Iban. This mystery life is like a lovely girl. 
Who cries, "You shall not," when she hopes you 

will. 
Rewards the bold transgressor well, and chills 
Sheep-eyed Obedience with her frosty praise. 
And toward her genial warmth I stretch my hands. 
As toward this welcome flame. 

Tubal. Now, gentle friends. 

Our neighbors having piled our board, and then 
By opportune demise removed themselves. 
We'll banquet even here. 

Irad. What ! here a feast ! 



AND OTHER POEMS 69 

Iban. The gods be praised! ne'er needed like 
to-night. 
Here's food to cheer the faint, and kindly wine 
To laugh our horrors down. 

Tubal. Be seated all. 

The Revelers. On Niloh's mount the god pro- 
vides his own. 

Tubal. One place is vacant. 

Iban. Why does Iradwait.^* 

Irad. Go on nor notice me; I'm not in mood 
For revelry to-night. 

Tubal. Nay, come, lad, come. 

What sullen devil lurks in you of late ? 

Iban. Your empty place will haunt us, like the 
chair 
In Bahran's lay. Come, you look dark as men 
Who weigh some tragic matter pro and con. 
The sadder earth, the more we need what cheers. 
Sit down and laugh with us. 

Irad. I'm not in mood. 

Adah. Art thou in mood to please a lady's wish, 
And one to whom thou owest grace as well 
For cold refusal past? Shall I alone 
Have emptiness for partner ? Noble sir, 
I do entreat thy company at feast. 

Irad. Hast thou forgot what night it is ? 

Adah. Nay, nay, 

'Tis thou forgettest; this is Niloh's night. 
Be earth undone ; but let our rosy ring 



70 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Be pleasure's magic circle, friendship's, love's; 
On that enchanted ground no noxious thing 
Intrude, or painful thought. Two talismans 
I oiFer thee, of power to make this den 
Appear a palace, we the king and queen. 
The one this cup contains ; perchance my lip 
Might hold the other. 

Irad. How thou gildest o'er 

What seemed corruption. Which the trulier sees, 
The eye bewitched by Noah or by thee ? 

Adah. Which one, indeed.^ Be thou impartial 
judge. 
And if thou deem'st my magic more than his. 
Be pleased to come with me. 

Irad. Ah, well, I yield. 

Thy witchery's more, be wisdom where it will. 

Iban. a toast, a toast! the victor comes and 
brings 
Her captive train behind. 

All. a toast, a toast! 

Iban. Pour, servant, pour. The night may rave 
without ; 
What care we now how leap and kowl beneath 
The baffled hounds of ocean ^ 

Revelers. Doubly sweet 

Is safety after danger. 

Iban. Ay, it is. 

This warms the blood. I shudder when I think, 
Had I remained below, what cold blue hand 



AND OTHER POEMS 71 

Had drawn my morning curtains, and what face 
Peered in on mine. 

Irad. Who brought you safely here? 

Iban. a power that willed not Cain should cease 
to be. 
The lure of ocean drew us. Three whole days 
We sailed the main, while like a sounding shell 
Our vessel rang with music. Then arose 
This awful storm that hurled the sea on land. 
And us therewith, swept o'er the drowned domain. 
The billows' plaything. Last on rocks below. 
Once inland cliiF but now the ocean's edge. 
We dashed and shattered. Yet such grace was ours 
From god in love with art, or pitying muse. 
Entire our band were saved, though all the rest. 
Page, woman, slave, and brawny seaman, drowned. 

Irad. Not one of all your number gone ? 

Iban. Not one. 

Though ne'er alive through such a boiling foam, 
Methinks, came man before. 

Irad. A priest would deem 

Some special providence of gods indeed 
Had held you worthy saving. 

Iban. Yea, for we. 

Though humble lamps, preserved the ancient flame 
That ocean else had quenched. 

Irad. I drink to thee. 

Whom powers inscrutable have chosen thus 
Ambassador from former worlds to new. 



72 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Drink deep; I'll drink with thee, till in the cup 
We find thy message for the men unborn. 

First Reveler. Peace, peace, ye yelping clouds. 
Have we no harp 
Of power to drown their discord } 

Second Reveler. Sheathe your fires. 

Ye hunters of the night ; the game is flown. 

Third Reveler. Let ocean bellow, while the 
mountain laughs. 
And makes its rage a foot-bath. 

Irad (aside). Yet one sound 

Ye cannot hush nor mock, the kindred cry. 
Now shrill as if beneath the murderer's blow, 
Now myriad-voiced in ocean. Fill the bowl. 
These others drink and hear it not. Drink thou. 
For ne'er till abstinence unbraced thine ear 
Heard'st thou or heeded. 

Adah. Fearful must have been 

The scenes you witnessed, Iban, sailing thus 
O'er what was happening yonder. 

Iran. Fearful, strange. 

I know not whether theme of future verse. 
Or memory dread to paralyze all song 
In me forever. Dim and foggy broke 
That fatal morning. Sultry heaven sucked 
The moisture of the deep in rolling mist. 
That steamed aloft unceasing, wall on wall. 
To one gray roof. There all day long we rowed 
Through cloudy corridors, down whispering aisles. 



AND OTHER POEMS 73 

Whose waters murmured low, like multitudes 
When hushed in some great awe. But close on 

night 
Wind, mild at first but freshening keen and fast, 
And shouldering Titan-like the clouds along. 
Went blowing inland. Dark the world became; 
And sounds mysterious under ocean ran. 
Like noise of crunching rocks or settling walls 
When props are knocked away. Then heaving 

deep. 
As if its bed were tilted up, while sank 
The land in equal scale, whate'er the cause. 
The mighty stream rolled inland. Earth beneath 
Convulsive groaning heaved the liquid hills. 
That far subsiding rolled. O'erhead was storm. 
Black cloud and lightning flash, a roof of night. 
Whose rafters all were fire; while yet the rain 
Hung pendulous, nor fell. Now on our lee 
Loomed up the halls of Cain, like rocks awash. 
Beneath that awful gleam. The crawling brine 
Had filled their streets; and waves like battering- 
rams 
Demolished home and fane. On beetling roofs. 
Yet stedfast, jutting dark against the fire, 
Moved frantic forms, whose cry methought I heard 
Through stormy miles between. Then fell the rain 
In tumbling rivers, making earth and sky 
One formless blot. 

Adah. Ah, may my sleep to-night 



74 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Be free of dreams; for if a vision came 
What pictures might it draw. 

Iban. These eyes could weep 

A second flood for what the first destroyed. 
I saw the marble domes a thousand years 
Had built with toil of thousands, hewing flat 
Whole mountains for the stone, I saw them racked 
From their foundations; arch and aqueduct, 
The marvels of all time, in frothy foam 
Made scaffolding for coral. Park and lawn. 
The walks we loved, far rides along the hills. 
Wide stretch of landscape flecked with countless 

homes, — 
All now are nothing. 

Irad. Just beyond the town 

A villa lay where I was born and reared. 
I knew its every acre, every curve 
Of slope or river; 'twas my world, 'twas home. 
Such ties the Deluge broke. 

A Reveler. Fill high the bowl. 

Else Goodman Gloom may tweak our nose. Drink 

deep; 
Old Lady Care would edge into our midst; 
We'll send her packing. 

Iban. Ay, you're right, you're right. 

Enjoy the fire that burns; the fire that's cold 
Will ne'er inspire the young nor warm the old. 

Tubal. The night is done. Let now the cup of 
sleep. 



AND OTHER POEMS 75 

Infused with drowsy lotus^ walk its round. 
A health to dreamland, friends. 

All. a health to dreamland. 

Adah. On shores afar the peaceful waters lap. 
And winds at play among the rustling boughs 
Are calling for their playmates. 

Irad. Wait_, we come. 

Thy hair is soft^ beloved, and thy breath 
Like April meadows. Fair is earth indeed. 
Great mother Life, why should thy children lack.? 
Sweet hall of dreams, receive the wanderer back. 

[They all fall into drowsy attitudes , and nothing 
is heard but the uproar of the storm outside. 
A long time elapses. Then Irad awakes while 
the others remain asleep, and with the gleam 
of unnatural excitement still in his eyes goes 
to the mouth of the cave.] 

Irad. Art thou there, Enoch, wandering in the 
night ? 
Let him who wishes life be wise, nor tempt 
The sons of Cain. Thou pay'st thy folly's fee. 
And thou dark speck beneath the lightning's gleam. 
If thou be what I think thee, journey on 
To thy dull destiny. Not Seth alone, 
Cain also shall survive, and I with Cain; 
And life with us, not flaccid life and lean. 
But such as through the inmost vein of being 
Mines out the treasure hid. Still vext pursue 



76 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

A phantom future, lay foundation walls; 
We'll clasp the present, feast in halls that are. 

Curtain. 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. 

Time. A number of days later. 

Place. A small temple to Niloh on the topmost 
point of Mount Himenay. The scene is a square 
colonnade. At the back it is open and gives a view 
of the storm outside and the waste of waters, which 
now are not far below the top of the mountain. 
Far off appears a half submerged rock which was 
once the summit of a high mountain peak. In the 
foreground are rugs, couches, and all the fur- 
nishings of luxury. The scene begins in the dim 
gray twilight of daytime, which darkens into pitch- 
black night at the end. 

[Enter the Antediluvians as if from banquet. '\ 

Iban. Let heaven roar and rain ! Who cares } 
Its flashes 
Are festal lamps to us, its thunder music. 
Let the wet patter ; let the wind it drenches 
Blow cool our fevered cheek. 

Tubal. Climb, ocean, climb. 

Your waves besiege a fort provisioned well. 
One drop of life-infusing wine can conquer 
All your damp horrors. 



78 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Iban. Ocean's but a stage, 

Postprandial theater, our panorama. 
Ring up the scudding mist with thunder, gods ; 
And we'll enjoy the tableau. 

Tubal. Reverend Noah, 

Afloat there in the storm, eats moldy cheese. 
Drinks the flat, tepid rain, and lies in straw 
Where cattle house. Who'd share his cruise with 

him — 
Who that can live with us on dainty fare. 
Drink foaming vintage, lie on purple couches. 
Feel like the gods warm blood and breathing fra- 
grance ? 

Iban. Ay, let the world go under ! What care 
we 
In joy's asylum.^ 

Adah. Only all these garlands 

Are withered ones; I miss the living wreaths. 
The rich old earth is bankrupt now of blossom. 
And I so prized them all, the rose and lily. 
Proud garden queen and mistress of the meadow. 
When buds the earth again ? When shall we cull 
Flowers on the hills ? 

Irad. Ask Him who sent the Deluge. 

If still He rule the deep. He knows. But often 
A crushing terror grips my heart that He, 
Stunned by this endless rush and roar, and deafened 
By the eternal lashing of the storm. 



AND OTHER POEMS 79 

Has dropped the reins of power; and the wild 

waters. 
Like horses masterless, gallop on forever. 

Adah. A fairer dream was mine. Methought 
the sun 
Beamed as of old; and earth to meet him slipped 
Her robe of waters from her like a bride. 
His lip was warm on peak and hill, that swelled 
Like breasts of love, and warm his arms of light 
Around the blushing planet. From their union 
Grew life anew. Beneath the mantling sea-weed, 
Like arbutus through withered leaves of March, 
Peeped all the flowers of spring. The parting 

ripple 
Went lingering from the moistened hills, that 

gleamed 
Like meadows after rain. 

I RAD. I am a churl 

To shatter dream so fair; but we must arm 
Our hearts beforehand for the hard, stern truth. 
For when the Flood goes down, if e'er it do. 
The earth will be no bride but one great corpse; 
And that grim desolation, huge and haunting. 
Will hang persistent on the eye, and crush 
The soul within us, — valleys black with slime. 
Gaunt, ribbed hills, the skeleton of a world. 
And drifted silt, through which the wrecks dis- 
mantled 
Of the great past will point like dead men's fingers. 



80 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

There too we'll find the death of ocean piled 
High on dry land, strange corpses of the abyss. 
Tremendous, whale and kraken where they died ; 
Who knows? perhaps leviathan himself 
Stretched in portentous bulk along some hill, 
Athwart the sunset like an ominous cloud. 
And we must live, one lonely colony. 
In alien scenes of death, till gradual time 
Enshroud them deep in herbage. I am cruel, 
But 'tis the surgeon's hand. 

Tubal. This comes of fasting. 

Fasting and lack of wine, this gloomy mood. 
You have not drunk to-day. Here, boy, but taste. 
Here's alchemy transmuting woe to bliss. 
And fool to sage. 

Irad. We all have drunk too deep 

Of that charmed cup ; would I might never taste it 
In life again. 

I BAN. Oh, 'tis the magic glass 

Through which all time grows rosy, life's quin- 
tessence, 
Romance and beauty. Could you live without it 
One fleeting moon, to drink from j et and puddle 
Insipid, bare existence.'' 

Tubal. He has tried it. 

With solemn oath abjured the god of wine 
For three whole days, and on the fourth returned 
With thrice threefold devotion. 

Irad. What we could do 



AND OTHER POEMS 81 

I know not well ; but what we must I know. 
Have you e'er thought what hardship we must bear 
When all these vaults are drained? Left empty- 
handed 
On the denuded hills^ we must strip ofF 
The soft traditions of a hundred yearS;, 
And delve like Eve and Adam. 

Adah. Nay, but surely 

We'll be the lords of earth. 

Irad. And who our servants } 

Alas, dear head, will miles of barren mud 
Yield thee one dainty mouthful.^ Will the winds 
O'er continents all empty blow together 
A home for thee.^ When time has worn away 
This gorgeous robe, think you its like will grow 
On wayside brambles? Iban and myself 
Must till old earth for bread ; and thou, sweet love. 
Even if we spare thee toil, must yet endure 
With us privation. 

Iban. Ah, you're like the plague ! 

Your mood's infectious; and my sickening fancy 
Already weaves the picture, sordid want 
With horror mixed, where hunger drives us on 
Through that great cemetery once a world. 
Here march we swart and haggard ; tired at night 
Lop trees for shelter, bed on clammy moss; 
Drive down our pick on buried thrones of kings. 
Cheap now as limestone ; gnaw our blackened crust 
O'er stones that jut from halls of former feast; 



83 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Turn with irreverent blow the bygone bones 
That once had slept with us ; and when the thought 
Of death and what's beyond has chilled our blood. 
Read on some kinsman's enigmatic skull, 
"I know, but tell not." Never ! drink and revel 
While revel lasts ; and after that we'll sleep. 

Irad. So say you now ; but would you quench so 

lightly 
That lamp of thought that none can reillume. 
Dreams even to drudges known^ and whispering 

hope 
Intangible and sweet o'er weary pillows, — 
Leave this, and sleep forever, none know how. 
With nothingness or nightmares ^ What had Adam 
And our first mother more than we to charm them ? 
We'll dig as they did, and perhaps like them 
Be root of some great nation. 

Tubal. Ah, I see you 

In vision, youngster, practice what you preach. 
Old Adam — pshaw! his was a bovine race. 
That grazed, and suckled young, and lived for 

others. 
We're tigers, boy. On others for ourselves 
We've learned to live, grown sleek and terrible 
By that warm diet. Can we now, so late. 
Unlearn the lesson of the centuries? No. 
We'll live the tiger's life, and die his death 
When our fat oxen fail. 

Irad. The very tiger 



AND OTHER POEMS 83 

Would chew the grass and live, if his grim maw 
Could make it food. 

Tubal. Ay, but it camiot feed him ; 

Nor can we live and drudge. The pastoral age 
Went long ago. Oh, I am old, I saw it. 
They knew no better; ignorance like dew 
Made life a morning fresh. The dew is dried. 
They built the world and we enjoyed it well. 
Why should we build like fools for others ? No ! 
When the long banquet's done, out lights ! to bed ! 
We've had our hour and used it. 

I BAN. Ay, our fathers 

Went drudging on, and lived because they lived, 
Ne'er asking why. We've learned to think, to know 
What a poor piebald robe of curse and blessing 
Is life at best ; at worst a poison tunic. 
Which wisdom spurns. 

Irad. Had God not sent the Deluge 

What hand had built for future years, and saved 
Wisdom and health for them, while we were wasting 
The hoard our fathers piled .^ Those mighty 

muscles. 
That have withstood unwrecked a lifetime's waste. 
Debauchery and soft joy; these brains of ours. 
In which the genius of a maddening world 
Flares up before it dies, — these are the savings 
Of the long, healthy years before we came. 
What body, mind, and soul were we bequeathing 
To future nations } 



84 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Iban. Would you have the world 

Forever in the same prosaic furrow 
Crawl on in stingy leanness? Rather think 
Our fathers were the root, and we the flower, 
The perfect blossom. 'Twas for us they sucked 
The juice of earth; and, had we never bloomed, 
They too were vain. The dream of what we are 
Cheered on those plodding sires ; and what we were 
From monolith and parchment shall inspire 
The years to be. We are a flame that o'er 
The sordid hills of time interprets life 
As something splendid. 

First Reveler. Is not that the theme 

Of your new drama.'* 

Iban. Surely. 

Adah. Oh, the drama ! 

We have not heard it; you must read it, Iban. 

Second Reveler. No, no ! we'll act it. 

First Reveler. Act it ; that is better. 

Adah. What is the plot.^* 

Iban. The Power that rules the world. 

Arraigned in court for drowning man, is brought 
Before old Time as judge. The Spirit of Beauty 
Is his accuser; he defends himself. 
The verdict ends the play. 'Tis a mere fragment. 
Thrown off at random. 

First Reveler. Iban shall be accuser. 

Old Tubal-cain^ throned here in state, be Time, 
And I the offending Power. We know our lines. 



AND OTHER POEMS ^ 85 

Now for the play. 

Iban. The scene's the hall of Time. 

TuBAL-cAiN (as Time). 

We fill our throne of judgment. Who appear 
In this great court of last appeal^ to hear 
The sentence of old Time.^* 

Iban (as the Spirit of Beauty). 

So deep a wrong 
As never sons of Beauty yet nor Song 
Have known I bring. That Power which from the 

void 
The world created and the world destroyed 
I here accuse^ that his own child he slew, 
The earth which at his knee in beauty grew ; 
And heaped the scum of waves and drifted silt 
O'er what my hand and thine, old Time, had built. 

TuBAL-cAiN (as Time). 

A fearful charge ; what answer, Lord of Spheres, 
Mak'st thou before the dread and searching years } 

First Reveler (as the Power of the World, and 
mimicking the manner of Noah). 

All measures in vain 

Would the measureless span ; 
And what word shall explain 

The eternal to man. 



86 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

In what dim recesses 

The mystery lurks 
That curses and blesses 

And endlessly works? 
When the world that was doomed 

Was engulfed in the wave. 
Then my wrath but resumed 

What my clemency gave. 
And the reasons that stirred me. 

The will that inflamed, 
Know those only who heard me. 

When nature was framed. 
O'er a glory immoral, 

A beauty profane, 
Now branches the coral 

And darkens the main. 

TuBAL-cAiN (as Time). 
Hast thou no more? Speak on, accuser. 

Iban (as the Spirit of Beauty). 

Lo, 
The saddest witness court did ever know 
I bring thee here, and call to life again 
The spirit of that city built by Cain. 
Sea-weed and wreckage line her marble floors; 
Night keeps the temple now where none adores; 
For thrones imperial whale and serpent vie; 
And dead within her arms her children lie. 



AND OTHER POEMS 87 

There infants are who scarce began to bloom, 
And babes unborn that died within the womb, 
The little hand that just had learned to reach 
The mother's face, the gaze that longed for speech. 
What law of God or nature ever broke 
The helpless arm, the lip that never spoke? 
There lie, cut off untimely, girl and boy, 
Whose only fault was that they dared enjoy 
What Heaven and nature gave. And here the seas 
Rolled dark o'er those who drew from breathing 

keys 
Delight unknown before, from wire or pipe. 
Or metal's clang; and those, when time was ripe. 
Who mirrored life on canvas, wall and frieze ; 
And bards divine, who sang of art and ease. 
Delight and dream and life without alloy ; 
And learned men, who found the cup of joy 
In the dark mine of life, and gave the power 
To taste without repentance' answering hour. 
And mighty men of old renown are there. 
Whose like come nevermore, whose strength could 

tear 
The lion's jaws. Unworn a lifetime long 
They drank the exhaustless rapture of the strong. 
Warred, loved, and reveled; and their torch burnt 

red. 
Yet unconsumed. Lo, judge, for all these dead 
I make appeal. The light is quenched that none 
Can reillume, the day of glory done. 



88 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

The life that was, the life that none restore. 
The life that earth shall equal nevermore. 

TuBAL-cAiN (as Time). 

Hark to the judgment of old Time. Thou Power 
That hast consumed thy children, from this hour 
Resign thy throne^ nor hope to fill it more 
Till thou the glory thou hast quenched restore. 
And, final act of thy now forfeit might, 
Quell thou the storm, rekindle heaven's light. 
Roll back the waves, and call the earth to bloom. 

First Reveler (as Power of the World), 

Lo, here submissive I accept my doom. 

Even as I speak rain, wind, and cloud have ceased; 

The floods withdraw, the morning walks the east. 

And what thou hast not asked, repentant now 

I will perform, and seal it with a vow. 

The sad survivors of the world that's gone 

I'll love and cherish as the doe its fawn. 

Still as his father did the son shall do; 

And the old world be born in them anew. 

Iban. So ends the play. 

Adah. And well deserves our thanks. 

Irad, is that not so.^ Why do you stare 
So fixedly at the storm .f* No word of praise 
For what has charmed us.^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 89 

Irad. Oh, 'twas doubtless well. 

Only the Power outside there in the rain 
Seemed somewhat different from your mimic one. 

\^He walks to the edge of the colonnade and holds 
up his hands into the storm that drives over 
him. At the same time there comes an un- 
usually loud peal of thunder.] 

Here's His cold message ; there you hear His voice 

Proclaim His will to man. Shall you and I, 

Think you, by his decree renew on earth 

The life we used to live ? And that dark water. 

Pitted and wrinkled by the spouting floods 

Of yet augmenting anger, is the seal 

Of His approval on our past and future. 

Adah. You are unwell. 

Irad. Oh, yes, I am unwell. 

Sick of a thing they call the curse of God. 
You too are sick and know it not, all, all. 
But the physician's coming. 

Adah (to others). Pray you, leave us. 

[Ea;eunt all except Adah and Irad.] 

Adah. Thou art alone with me. Come, rest thy 
head 
Upon my bosom, let me lull thy fever. 
Thy forehead burns. 

Irad. Then fold thy kerchief there. 



90 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Not sick in blood am I but sick of heart. 
And need no medicine but companionship. 

Adah. Liked you not Iban's play.^ 

Irad. 'Twas mockery _, mockery. 

He played a wedding march ; and through the win- 
dow 
I saw the bride's white skull. 

Adah. You will go mad 

If thus you watch that water. Gone is Nod, 
The beautiful city of our childhood's gone ; 
But we, we live ; and in the city of love 
We'll still be happy. 

Irad. Oh, but shall we be.^ 

Or is our love a transitory thing. 
Far from life's root, one petal of that flower 
Which God mowed down in mercy ere it withered? 
On thy soft forehead burns no brand of Cain, 
No saint's more fair. Had we grown old in Nod, 
And God ne'er sent the Deluge^ could we two 
Have kept the genial torch of love alight 
When blood and bone were cold ? What think you, 

Adah.? 
Weak, old, and wrinkled, had we still been dear 
Each to the other.? 

Adah. What persistent wind 

Thus blows your mind on rocks of wretchedness ? 
We're young; if now we dream of being old. 
When shall we have our youth.? 

Irad. Is love a lamp 



AND OTHER POEMS 91 

To burn on sense and fade when sense is gone ? 

If so, we'll light it and inhale its breath 

Now while we may. But there's another love, 

Ne'er found in life yet seeming meant to live, 

That comes in dreams and haunts my waking hours. 

In that the passing glow of youth became 

A furnace fire, wherein the soul was forged 

To beauty's image; and the heat grew cold, 

But left the soul it forged still beautiful. 

And oft I've dreamed one woman dwelt with me 

In a small cottage out among the trees 

As brother might with sister, only closer. 

In sweeter union, weaving soul in soul; 

Have sat long nights beside her hand in hand. 

In lonely chambers, where no stifling air 

With incense loaded came, but meadows breathed 

Through open windows. For our torch the moon 

Shone pure and tranquil. In that hour we might 

Have grown unbodied spirits, mixing still 

In incorporeal winds, and still have loved. 

Our drink was all the brook; and calm within 

Flowed strength that never from the wine-cup 

welled. 
We toiled, accomplished, builded, felt in little 
What must have been the great Creator's joy. 
And the grave hills looked down, and placid heaven 
Smiled kindly at us. Slowly we grew old 
Among our children, yet the moving years 
But drew us closer. Is all this a dream? 



92 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Or can we live so, Adah, you and I ? 

Adah. Nay, you are feverish ; let the future go ; 
For none can tell what power or wish were ours 
On ways untried, and woman least of all. 
Where thou art not is desert ; where thou art 
I clasp thy youth, and none can wrest it from me. 
Let the great clock tick on; we'll stuff our ears 
And never hear it. 

Irad. But the cry of children, 

Our own, will come. What life shall they be 
taught ? 

Adah. What else than that of time's old race, 
the blood 
Of Cain and Irad.^ 

Irad. Shall our little daughter 

Grow up to worship Niloh.^ And our boy 
Learn life as I did.^ 

Adah. Would you have him other 

Than what you are, the manliest son of Cain.^ 
What in your nature vexes you.^ 

Irad. O Adah, 

There's something in my nature killing me. 
Why turned my fancy thus to rural life, 
Untainted love and labor's healthy vigil? 
'Twas as the traveler, dying parched in deserts. 
Might dream cool water near, and gulp the sand 
In helpless longing. Night and day there comes 
The vision of a life I cannot live. 
Such as God meant for man, and which my fathers 



AND OTHER POEMS 93 

Bartered for this ere I was born. I said. 

Calm peace shall drive out anger ; in an hour 

I was a murderer. Temperance, then I said. 

Shall spread my table; four short days had passed. 

And wine and lotus claimed me. Yet, I cried, 

My love for woman shall be pure as dew. 

But oh ! though pure and fair my love for thee. 

And rooted deep in all that's noblest here. 

Yet ever on that rose of beauty crawls 

The loathsome worm that Niloh's worship spawned. 

Nor can I pluck it from my brain. 

Adah. Be calm. 

You see the world through black delirium's glass. 
Which colors all you do. Who'd have a man 
Meek as a peasant, dieting like children. 
Loving he knows not what ? The thing that frights 

you 
Is life as all do live. You're not yourself. 
Rest and forget. 

Irad. Oh, these are on the surface. 

Mere ripples from within. But deeper, deeper 
Goes the dread thing I have not words to tell. 
'Tis my whole view of life. Ambition, friendship. 
Love, pleasure, worship, God, and hope, and beauty. 
And good and evil, — all these things on me. 
Like some fair hillside glassed in turbid waters. 
Come fouled and darkened. I am like a man 
Whose limbs the surgeon lopped but yesterday. 
Still in his brain the restless nerves reach out 



94 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

To clasp, to move, and nothing there responds. 
So day and night my spirit reaches out 
To be the man God meant me; but the power 
To clasp that dream my fathers rent and severed 
Ere I drevr breath. 

Adah. What would you do or be 

That you cannot ? Are you not envied heir 
Of what the centuries gathered, fair and strong, 
A lord of men.'^ 

I RAD. Oh, yes, a blessed heir. 

Our grandsires made the torch, our fathers burnt 

it; 
'Tis at the socket now. 

Adah. Have you not friends 

To make you cheer? 

Irad. Yes, but that angry ocean 

Brings such a loneliness as none dispel. 
There speaks the wrath of God, and night and day 
Frowns in on me. 

Adah. Let the dark despot frown. 

We'll scorn His tyranny. 

Irad. Were He a tyrant 

Then I could bear, retorting scorn with scorn. 
But wiser, deeper, tenderer than the love 
Of man is His; and while He frowns on me. 
He smiles on others^ beautiful beyond words. 
Oh, lonely, lonely past all speech to feel 
The anger of the good ! I am the blot 



AND OTHER POEMS 95 

On His fair worlds the gnarl upon the bough, 
Which He must pare away. 

Adah. This road is madness. 

You must not, shall not brood on things like these. 
Hark, and I'll sing thy restless heart to sleep 
With an old tune we love. 

SONG 

What calls from the distance 

And beckons us on.'' 
'Tis the joy of existence 

Ere morning be gone. 
The blossoms are swelling. 

The dawn's in the east; 
And the soul in its dwelling 

Rejoices at feast. 
While to harmony moving 

All blessings unite. 
The loved and the loving 

Drink deep of delight. 
The gods have grown heedless. 

They all are so old. 
Oh, why, when 'tis needless. 

Should pleasure be cold.^ 

Irad. I thank thee, dear. 

And now thou'rt weary ; leave me here a little. 
I'd be alone and silent. 



96 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Adah. Dare I trust thee 

To thy dark thoughts alone? 

Irad. They're fleeing fast. 

Chased by thy gentle touch. Goodby, sweet love. 

Adah. But stay not long alone, for I shall miss 
thee. 

[Exit Adah.] 

Irad (alone). The night grows dense within and 

wild without. 
The torches are burnt low^ and in their sockets 
Flicker and fade. There, the wild gust has 

quenched them. 
Come, Darkness, and shake hands ; for I and thou 
Are of the shadowy things that must make room 
When God brings in His morning. 

[Walks to the edge and looks at the water.] 

Rising still. 
Where on these waters dark is Noah now ? 
Two empty places in his ark there are. 
Mine and my victim's. What dark spot is that 
Which floats against the rock and hangs there? 

Strange, 
It looks a floating coffin. Something white 
Peeps out beneath the lightning. 'Tis a skull. 
Thou dreadful herald from the realms untrod. 
Why knock'st thou here? Nay, rather, wandering 

waif. 



AND OTHER POEMS 97 

What hospitality dost thou need more? 

Does lack of burial haunt thee ? Has that brought 

thee 
Thus battering at my gate? Wait^ then, I come. 

[He descends to the water, and soon returns with 
a human skull in his hand.^ 

Sit there, ambassador. I'd talk with thee. 
I'll seek thy country shortly, and I'd know 
Its customs, folk, and language. You live longer 
Than we do here ; pray, does the time hang heavy } 
Do the dead know each other ? Can young lovers 
Still find each other lovely .^^ Does God come there 
To smile on these and frown at those ? No answer ? 
Oh, you're a diplomat; you've learned out there 
To hold your tongue. Nay, you're but bones and 

offal. 
What answer should the brain in my warm skull 
Expect of this dry pod.'* Thou'rt but the husk 
Of some abortive grain which winds have blown 
From God's great threshing-floor. Poor, kindred 

thing. 
Cast on the dump-heap of the world, while God 
Finds pleasure elsewhere! Yet he did not die 
Beneath the Deluge; see, these bones were cracked 
By club or staff. What Cainite son of Cain 
Took thee for Abel.^ Half methinks I know 
The face that once you lined. Did Noah send thee 
Afloat to me ? Or has the Flood scooped up 



98 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Thy new-dug grave^ that thou art come to stare 
At my sick conscience thus ? Preach on, preach on ! 
I know thy text, admit its truth; and yet 
Thou might'st have mercy. Even in death persist- 
ent! 
Or hast thou come to tell me that those eyes 
Have seen the Deluge, as thou swor'st they should. 
And I did swear they should not ? Get thee gone ! 
Wert thou alive again I'd kill thee still! 

[He strikes the skull, which rolls along the floor. 
Then after a pause he speaks.] 

And yet the will to murder ! 

[From the next room comes an outburst of drunken 
revelry.] 

Oh, great Heaven, 
What things are we that we have lived so long ? 
Come, Death, beneath thy mantel cover up 
The horrid glass that shows us what we are. 
Blow wind, and tumble rain, and ocean swell ! 
Why are you tardy .^^ Haste your cleansing work. 
Wipe us from that creation which we blot ! 
Come, bury us, bury us from the face of God 
Under your waters forever and forever ! 

Curtain. 



AND OTHER POEMS 



Scene II. 



Time. Four or five days later. 

Place. The same as in the last scene. The 
storm, however, has ceased, and the moon shines 
occasionally through the clouds. 

[Enter Iban and Tubal-cain.] 

Iban. The rain has paused ; is ocean rising yet } 

Tubal. No, not two fathom down beneath our 
feet 
The waves have halted. Through the grated cloud 
There glints the moon at last. 

Iban. And hope with her 

Returns at length to tell a kindlier future 
Than this cold, fishy death we feared. 

Tubal. Even so. 

The balance turns. Life may have something yet 
For all of us. 

Iban. No, not for all; for one 

That cup is emptied. 

Tubal. Adah.?* 

Iban. She is dying. 

Tubal. But three days ill, and all to end 
to-night. 
The race of men grow frail, young generations 
That wither in the bud. The hoary fathers 



100 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Who drowned of late o'ertopped their dwindling 

sons. 
The mighty lived; but might was born no more. 
Nor length of days. Could wind as light as this 
Detach a fruit unripened ? 

Iban. Fate is jealous 

Of all that's fair. The things that charmed our life 
He filches one by one. 

[Ea;eunt Iban and Tubal-cain. Enter Irad hear- 
ing Adah.'] 

Irad. Here rest thee where the moon's rekin- 
dling beam 
May light thy brow. 

Adah. 'Tis gone. 

Irad. 'Twill come again. 

There exiled life returns to all mankind ; 
Canst thou not share it.'^ 

Adah. Oh^ the wish to live 

Burns up anew^ but not the power. All's done. 
The glamour and the glory, warmth and beat 
Of life's glad, transient dream. I pant for breath. 
Ah, me! 

Irad. Here rest thy head. Thou'rt better now? 
There gleams the moon again, as when it lighted 
Our loves of old. 

Adah. But not the same ; its ray 

Is cold, that once was warm. 



AND OTHER POEMS 101 

Irad. The same bright key 

Is this which once unlocked our golden hours. 

Adah. The golden hours are gone. Ah, who 
can tell 
Behind the door that key unlocks to-night 
What waits for me ? Perhaps old Elmin's ghost 
Will ask me on the threshold of the dead 
Why he was poisoned; with malignant leer 
May tell my soul 'tis at his mercy there. 

Irad. You did not kill him. 

Adah. No, nor would have done. 

But yet he'll know I smiled and let him die, 
And shared his wealth. 

Irad. What justice can he claim. 

Himself more criminal than thou.'^ 

Adah. But he. 

He may be mighty yonder. Were he weak. 
Then I'd not fear. Fold me in thy strong arms; 
A horror chills me. 

Irad. Fear not, I am near. 

And where thou goest I will follow too. 

Adah. Ah, but once parted in the boundless 
night 
How shall we meet again .^ 

Irad. We'll trust to Heaven. 

Adah. A specter haunts me, a dread, nameless 
Nothing. 
I call the dead to ask them how they fare. 
And Nothing answers. I would read the future 



102 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

With shuddering heart; and through the parted 

curtain 
I see that Nothing waiting. 

Irad. These are nightmares. 

For even though death were one eternal sleep. 
We've slept long hours in life and held them 
precious. 
Adah. We slept to wake again, found slumber 
here 
One narrow rift between the blooming days. 
What sleep is that whence none awaken? Surely 
'Tis like no thing on earth. Oh, I am faint. 

Irad. Canst thou yet hear me } Speak, or move 

thy hand. 
Adah. I dig my fingers in the shore of life. 
But the great current draws me. 

Irad. Ho there, help ! 

[Enter Tuhal-cain.'\ 

Her hand grows chilly. 

Tubal. Say your last adieu. 

'Tis come, and none can stay it. 

Irad. Hast thou more, 

Message or last petition.^ 

Adah. I have loved thee. 

Forget me not if thou dost call my name. 
And Nothing answer. Could we relive our lives 
Unchanged, the same, how sweet it were. Goodby. 

(Dies.) 



AND OTHER POEMS 103 

Irad. What, is it ended? 

Tubal. Let us veil her face. 

Irad. No, wait a while. The moon holds down 
its torch 
To learn if this be death. The muscles move. 
She'd speak again. 

Tubal. 'Tis the deceiving light. 

There, clouds encase the moon ; and in the dark 
You cannot hear her breathe. 

Irad. All silent, yes. 

Tubal. May none disturb her tomb. 

Irad. One night in sport 

She donned my armored glove, which tight I 

gripped. 
And swore to hold her thus against a world. 
But playful, slipping back the hand within. 
She fled and mocked me. What I held was cold, 
Empty and hollow. So these earthy fingers 
I hold as in a vice ; but that within. 
Beyond my reach, has slipped from me and gone. 

Tubal. Last daughter of an ancient line was 
she. 
And in her childless bed the race of Cain 
Forever ends. Ah, well, 'tis better so. 
I'm old; I've watched the withering world too long 
To gild illusions. Yet it leaves us lonely. 
We cold survivors. 

Irad. "Better so." You too 

Would echo Noah. Never child shall heir 



104 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

That growing curse that like a river swelled, 
In which each reckless generation poured 
Its tributary taint. And yet was not 
Her soul a thing of wonder, and her life 
A lamp mysterious, lighted from on high? 
Is God so wasteful when He plans a world 
Of such rare marble as the lives of men. 
He'll count as worthless rubbish every stone 
Found useless in His building? Will He not. 
In some great treasure-house beyond the grave, 
Preserve them still, nay, find them fitting there 
Into some vast design unhinted here? 

Tubal. Think that which gives you joy. I've 
watched too long 
What mad economy those prodigals 
Who rule the world employ. And life is hewn 
From quarries inexhaustible, more cheap 
Than any wayside stone, 'tis everywhere. 
My loves have quarried out a thousand blocks ; 
My hate has cracked a thousand. Let it go. 
Yet a few hours I'll roll into my grave 
Like a lost pebble. But the time till then. 
That interval is mine ; my life to me 
As precious as 'tis cheap to God. Nay, boy. 
Ne'er rack your head nor break your heart against 
A granite wall. We'll bury her in state. 
And then we'll live. 

Irad. Not I. The time is past 

When thus I reasoned. Were no life beyond. 



AND OTHER POEMS 105 

No justice here, yet in my dying hour. 

If I could feel I'd toiled for something more 

Than life and pleasure, I'd create myself 

What gods denied, and dream it into being; 

Project my spirit through eternity 

From that one hour as center, and drink in 

What earth could never give, the blessed sense 

Of widening sympathy, the calm approval 

Of that still monitor who in our breast 

Weighs good and evil. 

Tubal. Where have you unearthed 

This ancient heirloom conscience } Did gray Noah^ 
With other musty relics of old days. 
Preserve you this ? I mind when I myself 
Had such a plaything. Memory's a strange world. 
Sometimes there is a kind of phantom boy 
Comes from its realm to vex me. 

Irad. What was he? 

Tubal. Like and not like .to me. He found the 
way 
To fuse the steel from heaven's pelting rocks; 
And he enjoyed some things that you and I 
Would find but tedious. Well, your path is yours. 
And I'll go mine. Pray, can I serve you further? 

Irad. Only, I pray you, see that none intrude 
On our last parting. 

Tubal. None shall dare. Goodnight. 

\_Ea:it Tubal-cain.li 



106 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Irad (alone). How ghastly in the moonlight 

shows the print 
Of death upon her features, how unlike 
The rosy glow of sleep, whose breathing lip 
Still murmurs with the drowsy whir of dreams. 
She tells me nothing. Has she aught to tell.f* 
Is she more wise than I, or is all wisdom 
For her one blank ? Shall we e'er meet again ? 
And should we dwell in everlasting joy. 
Whose joys were all perverted here, what pleasure. 
Acceptable to God, were sweet to us } 
Or shall we change our inmost nature so 
That what was dull grows dear, and former sweet 
Becomes abhorred.'^ Such fundamental change 
Would loose the bonds of being, and dissolve 
All cherished attributes and human ties. 
Or is all evil such by local laws. 
Though penal here permissible elsewhere ? 
In vain we query, yet our bankrupt souls. 
On earth impoverished, long for wealth in Heaven, 
And knock and knock, though never answered. 

Hark, 
Thou God entrenched in night and nothingness. 
Thou God of Noah, who by word and sign 
Told him the Flood would come. I ask of Thee 
One token only, which mere man would grant. 
Had he the power. If those You cancel here. 
Unfit for earthly needs, find home beyond. 



AND OTHER POEMS 107 

Grow pure beside Thee and are blest indeed^ 
Let the moon shine unclouded while I pace 
This chamber's length. But if in worlds beyond, 
Even as in this, we prove abortive seed. 
And destined for decay, then let yon cloud 
O'ershade the orb it neighbors, bringing night 
In my mid journey. 

[He paces slowly the length of the colonnade. The 
moon meanwhile shines uninterruptedly. 1 

Shall I hold it true? 
The windy vapor licked its golden round. 
Yet turned and blew not o'er it. Once again. 
Great Lord of Heaven, now I'll change the sign. 
If death have life in store, make dark the moon 
In my mid path ; but if 'tis all despair 
Then keep her beaming. 

[He paces the colonnade again. The moon shines 
uninterruptedly as before.] 

Ah, 'tis even so. 
God needs must be, else how had Noah known 
What never man could guess ; but that dread God 
Has other business in the growing worlds 
Than cheering wasted lumber. Be it so. 
Come, thou cold sweetheart, lay thy breast on mine. 
We're something each to other yet, or were. 



108 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

We'll pray no longer; God's forgotten us 
In the great plan of things ; but we, beloved, 
We'll not forget. We've yet some hours till dawn. 

Curtain. 



ACT V. 

Time. One or two days later. 

Place. The edge of the mountain top not far 
from the temple. The waters are almost on a level 
with it. 

[Enter Irad and Tubal-cain.] 

Tubal. The skies grow dark anew. 

Irad. Their gleam of light 

Was sent in mockery. Once again the winds 
Blow damp and boding; clouds entomb the sun. 
Reviving night and fear. 

Tubal. Is ocean rising? 

Irad. Not yet, but soon it must. An evil grin 
Goes wandering o'er its corrugated face. 
Anticipating prey. 

Tubal. A gruesome sight. 

Irad. Ay, is it not.^* See where for leagues it 
stretches. 
All flecked with foam, like mottled pards at play. 
There swim the rotting planks of nameless wrecks 
That vainly dared the Deluge. Forest trees, 
Washed out from guttered hills, go floating by 
With bones amid their branches. There we read 
Our own to-morrow. 



110 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Tubal. Yonder waits in ocean 

Our old white-bellied friend to give us greeting. 
Well, 'tis his hour. Why should I tear my lungs 
In the vain howl for mercy } 

[Music is heard from the temple.'] 

Irad. What is that.^ 

Tubal. A knell, or equal. Our good friends 
have sworn, 
Iban and all the rest, if death must come. 
To die like Cainites reveling. Three whole days 
They've kept a banquet sauced with poison waiting 
The signal of the sky. They view it now 
All draped in death. They're at their final feast. 
We two are left. 

Irad. Why drank you not with them ? 

Tubal. The mere brute instinct hugging life 
perhaps. 
A tough old leaf am I, that tightly clings 
Even on the wintry tree. Or sportsman's blood. 
That loves to fight the battle out, nor whine 
Because we lose. 

Irad. For two nights past I've had 

A haunting vision, never taking shape, 
But whispering hope and comfort. 

Tubal. Well, to-morrow 

You'll test its prophecy. 

Irad. Not so ; it pointed 

Beyond the morrow. If it whisper truth 



AND OTHER POEMS 111 

Death's but a turnstile; if deluding dream, 
Then let me die deluded; better so 
Than drugged in drunken stupor. 

Tubal. As you will. 

I've caused a thousand deaths, nor ever asked 
About the future; I'll not plague it now 
For my one funeral. 

Irad. All is hushed behind us. 

Tubal. Yea, Iban's rhapsodies are done. He 
sleeps. 
As often earlier, o'er his cup; nor knows 
What ushers come to bear him hence, nor fears 
Though they be strange and cold. 

Irad. 'Twere wrong to leave them 

Neglected as they died while life is ours. 
Come, let us lay the dead in reverent state, 
And say a last goodby. 

Tubal. Small care have they 

Who wrap their winding sheet or close their eyes. 
We now, or ocean soon. But yet we'll go. 

[Exeunt Irad and Tuhal-cain. After a pause the 
ark of Noah floats near the mountain peak and 
anchors. Noah appears on it. Enter Irad 
from the temple with his head bowed in emo- 
tion.] 

Irad. I had not thought to care; but such a 
scene. 



112 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

The grim burlesque of joyful banquets gone, 
Is ghastly contrast. Ha! what's here? 

Noah. Thou being 

That tread'st this lonely eyrie, marked by God 
Last haven for His chosen, who art thou. 
Survivor or wan phantom? 

Irad. Who I am 

Thou need'st not know nor question. Weigh thine 

anchor 
And get thee gone. This rocky buttress here 
Will crack thy hull like nutshells if the wind 
But veer behind thee. 

Noah. He who wields the wind 

With me is pilot. Thou art gaunt and worn. 
But like to one I knew. 

Irad. If thou knew'st good 

Spare thy dull eulogy; if thou knew'st evil 
I've suffered that should make detraction dumb. 
My part in life is ended; count me dead. 
Nor vex me more. Land not thy laughing crew 
To mock our shore of mourning. Turn thy prow 
To happier havens. 

Noah. Art thou Irad? 

Irad. Nay, 

I'm but a cipher which the waves will wipe 
From off the slate of being. 

Noah. Thou art he. 

Unhappy man, the storms that wrenched thy life 
Have left their traces. 



AND OTHER POEMS 113 

Irad. Yea, if you would know it. 

The dead have had revenge. Didst think to find me 
Obese and pampered, who have daily watched 
The death of all I loved, and nightly lain 
Upon the rack of conscience ? But our nerves 
Grow numb with suffering. Speak whate'er you 

will; 
'Tis naught to me. 

Noah. One dear to both of us 

Pursued thy flight. 

Irad. Ask not for him ; God took him. 

I would have burned in fire by inches for him. 
Fate willed not so. 

Noah. Ah, well, we held him dead; 

Yet hope dies hard. 

Irad. God curses all who love me. 

Noah. He lives in heaven, is spared the lifelong 
toil 
Of earth's lone pioneers. He died for thee, 
Bequeathing thee to those he loved. 

Irad. Would rather 

This head had been the first that ocean drowned ! 
Noah. Arm not thy heart in this defiant mood. 
As if thy kin were foes; nor think reproach 
Is on my lip. What's done is done, abhorred 
Alike by me and thee. Thy past and thou 
Be kept forever separate. 

Irad. Would they were. 

That I, rejoicing, like a babe new-born 



114 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Might feel thy love, if thou canst love me still. 
But 'tis not so. 

Noah. Thy gloom has tutored thee 

To read all life awry. 

Irad. Nay, rather turned 

These eyes within to read a truth severe. 
My lesson's learned. I'll blot no more with blood 
The record of my life, which sealed to-night 
Goes up in God's great archives. 

Noah. Heaven forbid! 

The wind of death blows o'er thy rock ; the waves 
Already make it slippery. Come with me. 
The love of God is wide, and meaner souls 
Float here to safety; why should one like thine 
Go down in darkness.^ Haste, embark; we'll steer 
For the glad haven of a fairer world. 

Irad. And wilt thou venture this, remembering 
all.? 

Noah. And will I not ? I left thy doom to God, 
And God preserved thee. Now I'll fight no more 
Against the welling love within me. Come ! 

Irad. Where should I go? to lay foundation 
deep 
For some new world to last till time is gray ? 
Wilt thou dig up the grave of Cain, that thence 
The plagues God buried there may walk again. 
And taint thy healthy children? 

Noah. These are words. 

Thou'rt wild with want and suffering. 



AND OTHER POEMS 115 

Irad. Nay, I'm wise 

With wisdom burned upon my brain in fire. 
The love was deep that would have sheltered me. 
For that God bless thee. But my part in life 
Is all to cease, my praise and duty there. 
Thou know'st not what a cursed heritage 
Is blood of Cain. With me the evil stream 
Goes ever underground. No child through time 
Shall call me father; but the peopled years 
Will bless my name that I'd no part in them. 
In that 111 know a patriarch's joy. Go on. 
Here I remain. 

Noah. Will God count one whose courage 

Would die as martyr for mankind, to save 
The nations from himself, unworthy saving } 
What stolid seaman, picked for life with me. 
Had dared as much } 

Irad. Perchance, but, brave or mean. 

Their veins are full of growth and mine decay. 
If there be life beyond the grave, we'll meet 
Where we may live forever and be glad. 
If not, 'twill be some consolation still 
To gain my long-lost reverence for myself. 
And die a man. 

Noah. Thou speak'st like one whose purpose 
Was breathed from God. Who shall gainsay His 

will.? 
Yet this gray head will whiten in a night 
If here I leave thee. 



116 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Irad. Mourn not thou for me. 

And yet forget me not, for I may soon 
Live only in thy love. 

Noah. No, life eternal 

Is waiting yonder. God Himself declared it 
By seer and vision. 

Irad. Yea, these gilded creeds, 

I trust them not; in death they ring but hollow. 
Let others lull the heart with lotus dreams 
Of certainties unproved, I scorn their charm. 
But throwing all upon a gambler's chance, 
I'll dare to count the odds and yet believe, 
In blindness clinging. 

Noah. Scorn not thou religion. 

It is the rainbow where the light of truth 
Broke up on human tears, a thing of earth. 
Yet sign of light in heaven. 

Irad. So we'll trust. 

The winds are wheeling round, the waves roll 

inland. 
All churned in froth and dotted deep with rain. 
The storm is here. Begone, nor dare to tarry. 
Thou bear'st a world; wreck not such precious 

freight 
By longer dallying. 

Noah. Yet you will not come.'* 

Voices from the Ark. There, cut the anchor or 
we're lost! Away! 



AND OTHER POEMS 117 

Irad (as the ark floats away). Farewell! forget 

me not! In our adieu 
New world and old forever say goodby. 

Noah (from the distance). God be thy friend! 

We'll meet again beyond. 

[Enter Tuhal-cain.'\ 

Tubal. The night comes tumbling down like 
caving sand, 
With rain and whirlwind. 'Tis a noble hour 
To bide here lonely with the dead. Hello ! 
Ho, Irad, boy! 

Irad. I'm here. 

Tubal. Thy voice is strange. 

Give me thy hand. Is it the ocean spray 
Makes it so clammy cold } 

Irad. No ghost am I, 

If that's your fear. How sweeps before the wind 
The feathery foam; and bolts begin to peal 
And bicker overhead. Were it not easy 
To shock with death beneath such martial music, 
That keys the will to battle ? Let it come ! 

Tubal. This waiting chills the heart. Would 
ocean took 
Corporeal form with which a man could fight ; 
Or sent as champion from its dismal camp 
Some monster of the deep. We'd warm our blood 
In deadly grapple, sweetening with revenge 
The pang of dying. 



118 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Irad. How the thunder grows ! 

What doors blow to in heaven ? who enter there ? 
What messengers of haste to tell the news 
That Cain's last remnant dies to-night, the race 
That vexed the eternal council is no more. 
Oblivion absolute beyond belief 
Mows down their memory. Never king nor sage 
Shall model laws from them, nor sculptor view 
Their cunning carvings; bard nor architect 
Be taught by them. Nor shall the coming years 
Know aught except that like a glorious flame 
They burnt and passed away. Their name shall be 
A synonym for all that God abhors ; 
And buried deep beneath the wave-washed hills 
Their splendor lie forever, while the law 
By which they perished molds creation still. 

Finis. 



OTHER POEMS 



ARMISTICE 

There lies a world far ofF in central space 
Where men have perished all, and beast and bird 
Have follovred after. Nothing there has life. 
Save the rank vegetation, hiding deep 
In its soft lap of shade and living green 
Forgotten bones and tumbling walls of towns. 

Here Michael and the lost archangel once 
Met in their wanderings. Years had passed by- 
thousands 
Since their last meeting. Sad was Satan's face. 
And sad grew Michael's gazing. Days of old 
Came rushing on the memories of them both. 
When by the courts of God as friend with friend 
They moved, and conscious strength that knew no 

peer 
Save in each other, drew their spirits close 
In mutual brotherhood, twin stars of Heaven. 

Then Satan spoke : "We meet where man is gone, 
This bone of old contention; nought is here 
To fight for longer ; now let battle rest. 
Come, ancient brother, one short day and night 
Let good and evil be a thing forgot. 
And all these bitter centuries. Let us sit 
And talk together here beneath the trees, 
As we were used in Heaven long ago." 

And Michael answered not, but doubting stood; 



122 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Then Satan took the angel's harp^ and sang 
To music sad a song of meaning strange. 

And dost thou shrink to clasp thy hand in mine? 
We both are servants of the will Divine, 
And thou shalt know it well by proof and sign 

In that far day when all shall have reward. 
Nor saviour here art thou, nor tempter I, 
For all the race of man are things gone by ; 
None curse me here beneath this empty sky; 

Why dost thou linger, why am I abhorred? 

Nor good nor evil dwells in stones and herbs. 
Or where the hand of God the thunder curbs ; 
Nor good nor ill the ocean's deep disturbs ; 

In man alone we ever met and warred; 
Sweet peace was ours before his race began; 
Harsh battle since through all the ages ran; 
Now in this world that hears no more of man 

Why dost thou linger, why am I abhorred ? 

Worlds, worlds enough there are where we may 

meet 
To war in peopled square and clashing street; 
But now one hour of armistice were sweet. 

In deserts wide one fount with living sward. 
Thou knowest not what lonely things we are, 
Cold shadows from the Light that walks afar. 
Come, brother, come ; no cause is here for war. 

Why dost thou linger, why am I abhorred? 



AND OTHER POEMS 123 

Thus sang the Soul of Mystery^ and prevailed. 
And all day long upon a grassy knoll. 
Princes of good and evil now no more. 
But friend with friend, they rested. Far below 
In a great valley lay the skeletons 
Of some old battle, whelmed in weeds and fern. 
And roots of banyans curled around their bones. 
Northward, a huge square mass of shimmering 

green. 
Its corners beveled by the wind and rain. 
Vine-clad a crumbling fortress lay. No flag 
Fluttered above its ramparts; none could tell 
If this were tyrant's hold or Freedom's shrine. 
Southward a heap of grassy mounds proclaimed 
Where once had been a city; homes and baths. 
Soft haunts of luring sin and dungeons dread. 
And churches towering Godward, — all were now 
But tangled hillocks and the mantling brier. 
The upas dripped its poison on the ground 
Harmless; the silvery veil of fog went up 
From moldering fen and cold, malarial pool. 
But brought no taint and threatened ill to none. 
Far off, adown the mountain's craggy side 
From time to time the avalanche thundered, sound- 
ing 
Like sport of giant children, and the rocks 
Whereon it smote re-echoed innocently. 
Then in the silence Lucifer again 
Struck music from the angel's harp and sang. 



124 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

I am the shadow that the sunbeams bring, 
I am the thorn from which the roses spring ; 
Without the thorn would be no blossoming. 

Nor were there shadow if there were no gleam. 
I am a leaf before a wind that blows, 
I am the foam that down the current goes ; 
I work a work on earth that no man knows. 

And God works too, — I am not what I seem. 

There comes a purer morn, whose stainless glow 
Shall cast no shadow on the ground below. 
And fairer flowers without the thorn shall blow. 

And earth at last fulfill her parent's dream. 
Oh, race of men who sin and know not why, 
I am as you, and you are even as I ; 
We all shall die at length, and gladly die; 

Yet even our deaths shall be not what they seem. 

Then Michael raised the golden lyre, and struck 
A note more solemn soft, and made reply. 

There dwelt a doubt within my mind of yore, 
I sought to end that doubt and labored sore; 
But now I search its mystery no more. 

But leave it safe within the Eternal's hand. 
The tiger hunts the lamb and yearns to kill. 
Himself by famine hunted, fiercer still; 
And much there is that seems unmingled ill ; 

But God is wise, and God can understand. 



AND OTHER POEMS 125 

All things on earth in endless balance sway^ 
Day chases night and night succeeds the day; 
And so the powers of good and evil may 

Work out the purpose that His wisdom planned. 
Eternal day would parch the dewy mold. 
Eternal night would freeze the lands with cold; 
But wise was God who planned the world of old ; 

I rest in Him, for He can understand. 

Yet good and evil still their wills oppose; 
And, serving both, we still must serve as foes 
On yon far globe that teems with human woes ; 

And Sin thou art, though God work through thy 
hand. 
But here the race of man is now no more ; 
The task is done, the long day's work is o'er; 
One hour I'll dream thee what thou wert of yore. 

Though changed thou art, too changed to under- 
stand. 

All day sat Michael there with Lucifer, 
Talking of things unknown to men, old tales 
And memories dating back beyond all time. 
And all night long beneath the lonely stars. 
That watched no more the sins of man, they lay. 
The angel's lofty face at rest against 
The dark cheek scarred with thunder. Morning 

came, 
And each departed on his separate way; 
But each looked back and lingered as he passed. 



126 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



THE "MAN-EATER" 

The night is calm^ nor threatens ill. 
Save where two glow-worms glimmer still 

In shadows distant. 
Unmoving while the moments go. 
Beyond the Kaffirs' tents they glow. 

Bright, strange, insistent. 

Beneath the moonlight's ghostly hush 
Low crouches in the lonely brush 

A figure tawny. 
Like some old sphinx in granite carved. 
With hollow flank and visage starved. 
And muscles brawny. 

Patient, as heathen priests of eld 
Round gods of blood their vigil held, 

H^ waits unsleeping. 
Yet tense as springs of bended steel. 
With lip drawn back and planted heel, 

His vigil keeping. 

A fearful god he worships there. 
To whom our fathers offered prayer 

When earth was younger, 
A power for whom those burning eyes 
Are altar lamps of sacrifice. 

The god of hunger. 



AND OTHER POEMS 127 



EARLY DEATH 



Down in the grasses that girdle the stream 

Sits she in light where the summer is warm. 
Claiming the promise of maidenhood's dream. 

Weaving the wonders the future may form. 
Daisies in dozens are round on the mold, 
One she has plucked and its petals has told 
To a rime that her grandmother chanted of old. 

Rich man — poor man — beggar man — thief. 
Doctor — lawyer — merchant — chief. 

Which shall it be that the sibyls unfold. 
Hero or hireling, the weak or the well. 

Poverty's shadow or sunshine of gold? 
Nay, I could tell thee but shudder to tell. 

Wan are thy features and wistful to see; 

Others may dream of a bridegroom to be. 

But what have such maidens in common with thee? 

Rich man — poor man — beggar man — thief. 
Doctor — lawyer — merchant — chief. 

Rich is he, rich with the plunder of time. 
Poor in the pity a lover should bring, 

Beggar he is for the joy of thy prime. 

Thief of thy youth and the dream of thy spring ; 

Doctor he is who all sorrow can heal. 

Lawyer whose pleading no tongue can gainsay. 



128 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Merchant whose traflSe no lip may reveal. 

Chieftain of chieftains whom all must obey. 
Slowly drop through thy fingers lean 
Petal and prophecy, — can it mean 
That thou knowest the bridegroom who comes 
unseen ? 



AND OTHER POEMS 129 

VOICES FROM ELFLAND 

I. The Appeal of the Fairies 

We make our home among the gurgling brooks. 
Or through the woods beneath the fragrant pine; 
We tent beneath the autumn leaves, and float 
O'er star-lit lake on flower and walnut shell. 

A happy life is ours, we never knew 
The pain or grief or care that mortals know, 
Nor ever steeped within our bubbling cup 
The stagnant herb of bitter melancholy. 

Yet oft the groans of mortals, and the breath 
Of passionate storms that shake their spirits, come 
To jar our placid world. The victim's blood 
Flows gross and feverish from his burning heart 
Around our dewy grass; and everywhere 
We hear the voice of aspirations vain. 
Till the hot air is from your cities blown 
As from a prairie fire. We come to loathe 
Your fierce extremes, your hate, your sultry kiss, 
Your joys that burn themselves to pain, your all. 
We hate your crucifix, for there survives 
Man's endless anguish on the dying face; 
We hate your creed, which forces on our lives 
Your alien sorrows ; grief has made your drops 
Of holy water scald like burning tears. 

Sweet flow the hours when ye are far away ; 



130 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Beneath the moon we lie at rest, and breathe 
The scent of leaf and blade, and water-falls 
Made pure by winnowing air. And blest it was. 
Ere man had lived, o'er earth to roam at will 
By tranquil lake and laughing sea, and valleys 
Where never grave was dug nor tear was shed. 
While yet the world was ours, nor yet had come 
With you the clamorous war of sense and soul. 

Mad creatures, mixed of clay and fire, whose eyes 
Are blinded with your tears, whose ears are deaf 
With dying sobs, that ye nor see nor hear 
When hills are fair and cataracts call aloud. 
What do ye in this lovely world of ours ? 
Here, like a stranded fish or drowning bird. 
With glazing eyes, in foreign wonderlands 
Ye pant for wonders in far, kindred worlds. 
And live not here nor there. Then leave to us 
This earth, whose use you never understand. 
Here, when your stormy race has ceased to be, 
On moon-lit nights our happy feet will dance 
Above your grassy hillocks, undisturbed 
By those burnt ashes from Prometheus' torch. 

II. The Stolen Child 

Beneath the reddening oak tree Margery found 
A crowd of little people, some in green. 
And some in red and brown. In the faint light 
Their dress seemed all of withered autumn leaves. 
The dim, gray twilight and the starbeams mixed 



AND OTHER POEMS 131 

Above their quaint^ peaked faces, and grotesque 
Unchildlike forms, that yet were childish small. 

Then one among them blew a trumpet flower ; 
And all the rest from harps of elder, strung 
With spider's film, or else through flutes of grass 
Sent up a piping music, mixed with song. 

"Come, little princess, come with us," they sang; 
"We waited long; and long has waited too 
Your happy home with us, your fairy home. 
'Tis dark and none will miss you. Sweet it is 
In elfland. Little princess, come with us. 

Our fathers lived with yours in Paradise 
Ere Adam sinned; brothers they were, so close 
Were once our bloods. We are the only race 
Who never ate the sad Forbidden Tree. 
Man ate, and good and evil tear him daily; 
The angels ate, and even their joys are stern; 
And Satan ate, we will not talk of him. 
Nor know him. Little princess, come with us. 

But all the elves through all the years have lived 
Like happy children; still for us alone 
The old untainted Eden breathes from clumps 
Of hazel thicket or from running brook. 
Or orchards dropping with the peach and pear. 
Where evil is not is no need of good ; 
And where nor good nor evil is, is peace 
And peaceful dream, all the sweet, innocent joy 
Of childhood. Little princess, come with us. 

You are our cousin, so we come to love you; 



132 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

You dream like us^ and so we understand you ; 
You are a child, we'll keep you so forever. 
If you grow old with men, the fatal juice 
Of that sad Tree will work within your veins 
Hopes never satisfied, and maddening storms 
You wish not. Little princess, come with us." 

Dusk deepened into night, and morning came; 
But Margery came not, nor was seen again. 



AND OTHER POEMS 133 



THE LAST NIGHT OF CAPUA 



Far off beneath the stars 
Camped cold on dewy grass 

The wolf-nursed brood of Mars, 
Hacked helm and stained cuirass. 
And shields of dinted brass. 

The old centurion's cheek 

Wrinkled with laughter grim; 

"Dream-children of the Greek, 
Who soften heart and limb 
O'er lyre and bumper's brim, 

"Ye had your gold and pearls. 
Your feast and perfumed bath. 

Your song and laughing girls; 
Ye had, the Roman hath; 
Now wake and feel his wrath. 

"Strength rules the world and will. 
The strength despising joy 

That lives but to fulfill; 

Such force shall Rome employ 
To build, or to destroy." 



134 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

II 

High arched the halls and rich 
O'er gem and purple gown; 

From fount and graven niche 
The marble gods looked down 
On those in Capua's town. 

Rare wine in golden bowls 
The mantling poison held. 

While o'er their parting souls 
Luxurious music swelled. 
Their sires had loved of eld. 

"Farewell to life," they cried, 
"To Rome defiant scorn; 

Like men we lived and died. 
And drank from Plenty's horn 
Glad night and joyous morn. 

"White arms have lulled our rest. 
Old wine has warmed our veins ; 

We shared with friend and guest 
Carved hall and chiming strains. 
And all that Greece contains. 

"Jeer on, ye Roman powers. 
Who toil, ye know not why; 

The wiser choice was ours. 
Strength to be glad and die; 
Sweet were the days gone by. 



AND OTHER POEMS 135 

"Life's fairest gift we gained. 

Soft bliss and golden ease ; 
Now that the cup is drained 

Let Rome enjoy the lees." 

So darkness covered these. 



136 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



THE COMING OF PEACE 

"When Cometh Peace ?" the heathen wailed of old 

From rack and blazing home; and God replied: 
"Not yet^ while passions fierce and uncontrolled 

Make Peace a nation's harlot, not a bride. 
Not while the pang that searches nerve and vein 

Alone can rouse to life the stagnant soul 
In brutal lands, where ease from war and strain 

But heralds lust and fills the drunkard's bowl." 

"When Cometh Peace.'*" went up the Orient's groan. 

Not yet, while life becomes it own worst foe 
With teeming birth, and War's red axe alone 

Through human forest hews the room to grow; 
Not yet, while power is still the victim's dream, 

And tyranny the meanest slave's delight. 
Where Tamerlane and Ghengis Khan but seem 

Composite pictures of the men they smite. 

"When Cometh Peace?" is now the world's appeal. 

Not yet, though far her hastening steps we hear ; 
Not while her bristling angels, armed in steel. 

On cowering lands impose the truce of fear. 
Not while we force a code on murmuring foes 

Which our own rulers violate and annul; 
Not while the only peace each nation knows 

Would give themselves the Land Debatable. 



AND OTHER POEMS 137 

"When Cometh Peace?" Upon the mountains now 

Those beauteous feet the gladsome tidings bear; 
But I shall see her bridal not, nor thou; 

Nor man shall win till man has learned to wear. 
No cry of bards, no long-conferring kings 

Shall ever make the battle's thunder dumb; 
When winter's blasts are o'er the violet springs. 

When earth is ripe for Peace then Peace will 



138 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



THOUGHTS ON OPENING WEBSTER'S 
DICTIONARY 

I turn with awe this ponderous volume o'er. 
This household counselor, these finely wrought 

And hammered keys that open door on door 

Through the vast treasury of a people's thought. 

I linger here o'er Milton's quoted phrase 
As Indian rajahs o'er a diamond may. 

And see sometimes within its facets blaze 

A gleam that flashed from God's eternal day. 

And these old roots of words, that seem to stand 
So dull and dry upon the printed page. 

Take on beneath imagination's hand 

The charm of history and the rime of age. 

Here's evolution more than Darwin taught 
In these ancestral footprints; here behold 

The spirit growth of nations, word and thought 
Developing each other from of old. 

What spirit first upon his lonely beach 
Felt solitude like ocean round him roll. 

And launched the ships of passion-laden speech, 
Columbus-like, to find a brother soul? 



AND OTHER POEMS 139 



What words were those that ventured outward 
bound. 

Those clumsy craft, those first rude pioneers. 
Where now the mighty galleons of sound 

Waft on the thought of twice a thousand years ? 

Were they the brute's low call of pain and greed. 
Or sounds man echoed back and knew not why ? 

Or growing notes to voice a growing need. 
Like Caliban's half- formulated cry? 

And through the centuries since what change was 
here 
As click and guttural's broken hints were turned 
To spirit-molded music, breathing clear. 

To bear what Plato dreamed and Newton 
learned. 

Still 'mid the minds that think and hearts that feel. 
Expressing what was never yet expressed. 

New ships of sound are launched on chiming keel. 
To bear some new Columbus through the west. 

Still many a word is token and no more, 

Frail envoy of a thought no speech can bear ; 

Who shall interpret, say, these letters four, 

This one word "Life".? The universe is there. 



140 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



Or take this other, "Love"; its meanings go 

From height to depth through vast creation's 
whole. 

From flowers that waft their pollen to and fro 
To God's all-seeing eye and moving soul. 

And here, the joy of life, the balm of death. 
The star of martyrs, comfort of mankind. 

Is this word "Faith," a syllable, a breath, 

A marsh-fire's lamp, and boundless night behind. 

Brave Webster, noble Webster, you did well ; 

But yet through many a year must language 
grow 
Ere man to man shall have the power to tell 

One half the things that now we think we know. 



AND OTHER POEMS 141 



A VISION OF EVIL 

I saw a realm at midnight still, 

(Who knows if this be dream or true?) 
Where earth's discarded souls of ill 

The scorn of God together blew. 
There floats unceasing to and fro 

The chaff from heaven's threshing floor. 
Through endless ages waning slow, 

For evil fades for evermore. 

They waste like leaves on winter's tree; 

(Who knows if this be dream or true?) 
The newly come are fair to see. 

As when they walked with me and you. 
But souls of eld are faint and thin 

Like vapors blown on ocean shore. 
And life is moldering deep within, 

For evil fades for evermore. 

There moves Napoleon splendid still, 

(Who knows if this be dream or true?) 
With flashing eyes and kingly will. 

As when he rode to Waterloo. 
But Timur scarce has form of man. 

And pride and memory all are o'er; 
The stars gleam through his phantom wan. 

For evil fades for evermore. 



142 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

The queen Antonius loved and kissed, 

(Who knows if this be dream or true?) 
Is thinner now than parting mist. 

And mind and will have withered too. 
And nought is left of Priam's boy. 

Who drew the ships to Ilion's shore. 
For, sinful wrath or selfish joy. 

All evil fades for evermore. 

And round them moves, a ghostly blur, 

(Who knows if this be dream or true.'') 
The Soul of Evil, Lucifer, 

As he has done the ages through. 
He thinks no more of thrones and wars. 

No trace is his of glory o'er; 
He floats like fog across the stars. 

His power is fading evermore. 



AND OTHER POEMS 143 



WASTED SEEDS 

The seed that never grew 

Had life within the germ; 
But skies withheld their dew. 
And fields but gave the worm; 
What matter ? Earth has seeds to spare and not a 
few. 

The soul that never bloomed 

Had dreams of God within; 
But want its life consumed. 

And curse for others' sin; 
What matter? Earth has souls enough though 

these were doomed. 

The tribe that fades away 
Had visions fair as we; 
But withered stalks are they. 
Whose race shall cease to be ; 
What matter? Earth has tribes enough though 
these decay. 

What matter? Yet the cry 

Goes up and is not stilled ; 
Life's verdure waxes high 

Where love and wisdom tilled; 
But who shall hush the sob of wasted seeds that die? 



144 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



THE BUTTERFLY 

The Man 

Dancer throned at Summer's board. 

Butterfly, 
Even while thy wine is poured 

Death is nigh. 
One short hour of balm and sun 

Thou hast had; 
Lo, at thy feast the skeleton; 

Why so glad? 

The Insect 

Hast thou ever known extreme 

Joys and fears? 
Did not then a moment seem 

Like to years ? 
When thy heart was keen with grief. 

Or with glee, 
Were not hours to others brief 

Long for thee? 
Time's a word; whole worlds are found 

In drops of dew, 
And eternity's vast round 

In moments few. 



AND OTHER POEMS 145 

While I sip the wine of youth 

From the cup, 
Dreams that last as long as truth 

Bubble up. 
Ages past and more to come 

Live I through 
While but once the pendulum 

Swings for you. 
When I part from summer's beam. 

Leaf and flower. 
All eternity will seem 

But an hour. 

The Man 

Art thou fly or Psyche, thou. 

Learned so deep? 
What do human spirits now. 

Do they sleep .^ 

The Insect 

Fly or Psyche, who can tell.^ 

A voice am I, 
Speaking things you shall know well 

By and by. 
Life for me will be forgot 

When I am through ; 
You must ask your Father what 

It is for you. 



146 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Yet if they sleep, a dream has blest 

The eyes that slept 
Which all eternity compressed 

Within it kept. 



AND OTHER POEMS 14T 



THE ORIOLE 

Chorister of air, 

On the bough of spring. 
What melodious throat and where 

Taught thee thus to sing? 
From what isle remote 

Out of man's control. 
Came thy clear, untroubled note. 
Oriole? 

What did Eden lose 

That doth here endure. 

Gushing forth as waters ooze. 
Effortless and pure? 

Why can I not know, 
God in shape and role. 

Whence thy heart rejoices so. 
Oriole? 

When God made thy brain 

Like a silver bell. 
Forged He other nerves of pain. 

Other joys as well? 
Was the dream that poured 

Music in thy soul 
Older than the Flaming Sword, 
Oriole? 



148 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



Nay, too surely, bird, 

More thy song conveyed 
Through this human brain that heard 

Than the brain that made. 
Not thy voice, but one 

Echoing in my soul, 
Hints all truth, revealing none. 
Oriole. 

Yet at Wisdom's feet 

Was learned thy mimic trill; 
Soulless echoes thus repeat 

God on Horeb's hill. 
Deep in learning's maze 

Delve we like the mole; 
Thou hast drunk the Maker's days. 
Oriole. 

Truths there are that here 

Reason cannot find. 
Where her eyes are piercing clear, 

Nathless color-blind. 
Lights there are whose hues 

Change creation's whole. 
Which thy thoughtless song renews. 
Oriole. 



AND OTHER POEMS 149 



Music like thy staves 

Surely ne'er can flow 
From our gilded galley-slaves. 

Living but to row. 
Mightier lamps are dark, 

Dry wick and empty bowl; 
What oil has fed thy tiny spark, 
Oriole? 

God, whose fingers press 

Life's unthinking keys. 
Pouring thoughts that none express 

Through such pipes as these. 
When the skies are rent 

Like a rending scroll 
Tell me what Thy music meant. 
Thy oriole. 



150 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



THE NIGHT-WATCH 

{From a painting representing lions prowling at 
night around the ruins of Nineveh.) 

Slowly at midnight lone 
Round dust and nodding stone 
Of Nineveh o'erthrown 

The night-watch makes its round. 
Bright burning eyes of awe, 
Low purr and stealthy paw. 
Soldiers that know no law 

Which man has found. 

Well might the Buddhist seer 
Think buried kings severe 
Came back incarnate here 

In kindred beasts of prey. 
And so we too the while, 
Half with a doubting smile, 
May dream, while that grim file 

Moves on its way. 

Speak, thou mysterious guard. 
Lank cheek and body scarred. 
Find ye your penance hard 
Through all this vast of time. 



AND OTHER POEMS 151 

Souls of the kings of eld. 
Who against God rebelled. 
Proud of the realms ye held. 
Drunken with crime? 

Where now your answers glib. 
Starved throat and hollow rib, 
Long-fanged Sennacherib, 

Tiglath with yellow mane? 
What wine has vengeance poured 
In realms yet unexplored 
For those who by the sword 

Slay and are slain? 

Say, has a power been found 

More strong than monarchs crowned? 

Have those sharp swords you ground 

Failed there, so mighty here? 
Have ye no truth to tell 
Might fit the present well. 
Where still your sons would swell 

The reign of fear? 

Here where your wine ye quaffed. 
At captives' anguish laughed. 
And notched the hunter's shaft. 

What thoughts to-night are yours? 
Cannot those silent jaws 
Ope once in Mercy's cause. 
To tell us God has laws 

And God endures? 



152 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Pass on with stealthy tread. 
Brutes ravening to be fed. 
Or souls of tyrants dead. 

Whichever ye be, goodnight. 
0*er Nineveh's decay 
For lions comes the day. 
And for dead kings the sway 

Of Peace and Right. 



AND OTHER POEMS 153 



SHAKESPEARE TO IMOGEN 

Dear saint, my soul was marred and stained 

That built thy shrine ; 
But holy, sweet, and unprofaned 

It treasured thine. 

Let this reveal while I and thou 

Through years endure. 
How worldly, sinful men may bow 

To women pure. 

Thou art not I, but art of me. 

My child of thought. 
The thing that I had longed to be. 

And yet was not. 



154 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

TRUTH 

Truth veiled her face from men 

In days of eld ; 
Glimpses alone since then 

Have we beheld. 

The Hebrew moved aside 

That curtain's fold; 
"Worship is truth/' he cried 

O'er rituals old. 

The Greek with trembling hand 

That face laid bare; 
What he could understand 

Was Beauty there. 

Her veil the Roman drew 

With martial awe; 
He saw but what he knew, 

And whispered, "Law." 

The monk of Europe dreamed 

In cloisters dim; 
As inward vision seemed 

Her face to him. 

And we in glimpses rare 

On that high brow, 
O'er rights that all may share 

See Freedom now. 



AND OTHER POEMS 155 

Ah^ Truths the world's long dream 

But shows us thee 
As in some whirling stream 

The stars we see. 

Sweet face in fragments glassed 

On waves that break. 
Who shall from these at last 

Thy image make? 



156 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

THE DIVINE COMEDY OF TO-DAY 

Inferno 

Three faces in the crowd; 

What saw'st thou there? 
Like Farinata's one was scarred and proud. 
And still for all its pride left quivering bare 

Sin's agonized despair. 

PURGATORIO 

Three souls amid the crowd; 

They passed like dreams; 
With tearful eyes the second head was bowed; 
But o'er it shone, like light on bitter streams, 

The sorrow that redeems. 

Paradiso 

Three worlds amid the crowd, 

So near yet far; 
Joy kindled all the third like burning cloud; 
Love rose, like Beatrice from her mystic car. 

To lead from star to star. 

Three faces in the crowd. 

Life old and new. 
Oh, soul of Dante, thus by God endowed. 
Six centuries men have lived and died since you; 

And yet your song is true. 



AND OTHER POEMS 15T 



A FAIRY STORY 



*'Now tell me why is your hair so white. 

You stern old man from across the way; 
And why did you wait so long to-night 

By the grassy grave where the roses layf" 
''You are young, iny child, and to understand 

You must live and suffer for many a day; 
Come, ril tell you a story of fairy land, 

To help you in whiling the hours away." 

Far under the wilds of the storm-swept snow 

In the silent caves of the Northern Pole, 
Where over the plains the whirlwinds blow. 

Was the home of the elf-king Imranole. 
All bright with silver and veined with gold 

Were those caverns hammered by gnome and 
troll; 
But lonely ever and wintry cold 

Was the heart of the elfin Imranole. 
But once on a night that was fierce with frost, 

When the ice would burn you like burning coal, 
A mortal maiden, whose way was lost, 

Came, none know how, to the Northern Pole. 
The icicles hung in her yellow hair 

As her trembling feet o'er the threshold stole; 
Without was the dark and the polar bear. 

And she made her dwelling with Imranole. 



158 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

Never a whisper nor mortal sound 

Was heard in those caves of the Northern Pole, 
Where the maiden sat as the years rolled round. 

Taught and tended by gnome and troll, 
Till her terror died, and a mighty love 

Over her heart like music stole; 
And the bridal lamps gleamed bright above. 

As she knelt by her lover, soul to soul. 
But there came a call from the realms of death. 

From the God of Sorrows, whom none control. 
So hard is heaven to earth beneath; 

And she died on the bosom of Imranole. 
They laid her deep in the frozen clay. 

And heaped the snow in a wintry knoll. 
Where the Northern Lights at midnight play 

O'er the buried bride of the Northern Pole. 
And there when the winds blow wild and bleak 

From ancient glacier and icy shoal. 
The tear drops freeze on the withered cheek 

Of a lonely watcher, — 'tis Imranole. 
His hair streams white on the howling blast. 

And his beard waves white, like a floating scroll; 
And I know his grief by a sorrow past. 

And the silent bond of a kindred soul. 

**But really, truly, and was it so. 

You stern old man from across the way? 

And why is your voice so strange and low. 
And why are you crying at what you say?'* 



AND OTHER POEMS 159 

"0 child J sometime you will understand. 
My friends are few, and my head is gray; 

But this was a story of fairy land. 
And the Northern Pole is far away." 



160 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



THE SEACOAST IN WINTER 

The stinging winds alternate freeze and burn; 

Chill gleams the twilight where the sun went 
down^ 
Four threads of cloud across it, faint and stern. 

Like scars across the lost archangel's frown. 

Cold, dark, forbidding heaves the wintry surge; 

The frozen rocks are drenched with icy spray ; 
One lonely steamer on the horizon's verge 

Seems numbed and torpid, crawling on its way. 

A fierce, strange thrill pervades all out-of-doors. 
Grip of wild hands, half friendly and half foe ; 

The iron night grows darker down the shores ; 
Suffering yet glad I breast the winds that blow. 

Here stirs the life that warmed the old sea-kings 
To scourge the laggard blood in heart and vein, 

The warrior joy that like Athena springs 

Full armed and conquering from the head of 
Pain. 



AND OTHER POEMS 161 

SCHOOL-GIRLS 

They pass like flowers afloat 

On summer air^ 
Gold locket at the throat 

And wind-kissed hair. 

Still fresh the dew of youth 

Around them falls; 
Through visions robed like truth 

The future calls. 

Speak not, their dream revere; 

Yet mourn we may 
For other school-girls here 

Who dreamed as they. 

How fare those now for whom 

Life beckoned splendid.'* 
Unlike their dream and doom. 

Their vision ended. 

No mighty grief nor wrong 

Could they disclose; 
Dream tragedies are song, 

But life's are prose. 

Yet mournful from the past 

Their words float hither: 
"Few hopes will thunder blast; 

But many wither." 



162 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

THE EVENTLESS TRAGEDY 

A Dying Woman Speaks 

Sister, remain and watch to-night. 

There are ghastly hours between twelve and 
morn; 
And I think of what never has come to light, 
Of all in my life that has died imborn. 
Till the air seems filled with the whisperings 
Of the haunting ghosts of the unborn things, 
Now that my evil and good are done. 

There was love, twofold in its mystic thrill. 

With its soft inweaving of will in will. 

And two worlds made one through the eyes of two ; 

But its death was old ere its life was new. 
And Sloth and Mammon bend hushed above 
The beautiful face of that still-born Love, 
Now that my sordid life is done. 

There were voices of children in elflands green. 
With a mother's ease like a hedge between ; 
Eyes she had longed for and dreamed of seeing. 
Eyes that she never had called to being. 

And the air seems filled with the moan forlorn 
Of the clinging ghosts of the babes unborn. 
Now that my indolent life is done. 



AND OTHER POEMS 163 

There was joy of nature and song and art. 
That I might have nursed in my lonely heart. 
Soft shoots that time would have rendered firm. 
But they shrank and withered in bud and germ. 
And my hours of boredom are coffined there 
Where the thoughts of the mighty were mine to 
share. 
Now that my aimless life is done. 

There was need without and my wealth within. 
And the pleasure that makes us of God's own kin 
In a sympathy wide as the race of man. 
But its whispers died ere they well began. 
And the clerks of hell are in Midnight's tent 
To audit the books of the trust I spent. 
Now that my thoughtless life is done. 

There were life-giving dreams for that near unseen. 
That died in the march of our dull routine. 
Things that God never had meant to die. 
But we killed them within me — ^the world and I — 
And the shades are in judgment, the doom defer- 
ring 
Of a soul that quickened and died in stirring; 
And the clocks of midnight are tolling one 
For a life that was ended but ne'er begun. 
For a life that was wasted, and now — is done. 



164 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

THE VISIT TO THE OLD FARM 

Far lies the cramped and clanging street 
Where now my paths of life are cast ; 
Like withered leaves the buried past 

Seems rustling here around my feet. 

No tree that buds on all these lands. 
Nor tumbling wall, nor sagging rail. 
Nor tufted sod on plain or swale, 

But bears the touch of buried hands. 

'Tis haunted ground, rock, hill, and spring. 
Five generations of my dead 
Have worn it with their lifelong tread. 

And made the soil a kindred thing. 

In dreams through changing visions rolled 
Forgotten toil my hands pursue. 
While wakes the spell my childhood knew. 

The unlonely loneliness of old. 

Again behind the plowman's share 
The robin pecks with watchful eye; 
And through the blue and boundless sky 

The darting swallows wheel in air. 

The daisy falls, a twinkling spark. 

Where through the grass the mower drives ; 
And childlike shrinks between the knives 

The flower that bore the meadow lark. 



AND OTHER POEMS 165 

Through yonder woods in winter hoar, 
When drearily moans the forest bleak. 
And frost makes tree and timber creak, 

We fell the hermit trunks once more. 

Loud rings the axe in woodlands lone; 
And gnarled oak and tapering ash 
With warning crack and shattering crash 

Come thundering down on bush and stone. 

Penurious life it was, and hard; 

But boundless sweep of vale and hill 
Enringed our day, and vast and still 

Looked down the night from heaven o'er- 
starred. 

Streams choose a random course, but then 
Flow ever there; our youth no less 
Builds random laws of happiness 

By which we laugh or weep as men. 

Still breathes the charm from rock and fall, 
From sprouting corn and crumpled fern. 
Lone, somber, sexless, dumb, and stern, 

But luring as the siren's call. 

Still solitude will own her child. 
And harsh old mother Nature hers; 
Unlaid the ghost of memory stirs. 

The dream, the summons of the wild. 



166 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

ON PLACING A TOMBSTONE OVER MY 
FATHER'S GRAVE 

The air is hushed, and quiet all the scene ; 

In sunlight gleam the kindred graves around; 
As o'er these summer grasses, springing green. 

We place this stone above this lowly mound. 

Unmarked he lived and unregarded died 

Who slumbers here; much dared, endured, and 
willed ; 

Seemed great to friends and God and none beside. 
Foundation deep where fates denied to build. 

Yet, dust beloved, couldst thou but know how crowd 
Thick coming memories round thy noteless bed, 

Thou might'st be proud to know thy children proud 
Of their unknown, unstained, unconquered dead. 

Obscure and shunned the path 'twas his to go. 
Yet one at which the boldest heart might quail. 

Through bitter, hopeless years descending slow 
Disease's dark, Apollyon-haunted vale. 

Despair and anguish round on every hand. 

And Reason rocking on her crumbling throne. 

Few sympathizing, none to understand. 

He fought his dreary fight unhelped, alone. 



AND OTHER POEMS 167 



The hero's death is all his children's pride. 

Is not his praise as great who dared to live, 
When every day in lingering pain he died. 

And death was all that life had left to give? 

Less brave than Plassey's conquering chief or more 
Was he, who watched through nights with anguish 
long. 

To shun, Ulysses-like, that fatal shore 

Where floats the opiate siren's drowsy song? 

Failed every hope whence youths their manhood 
draw; 
And Reason setting knew what night ensued; 
Such foes as happier courage never saw 

Walked through the dusk, and found him unsub- 
dued. 

And still his love for those he left behind. 

While yet one spark of dying memory stayed, 

Like sunset flames lit up that ruined mind, 

Till darkness gathering wrapped the whole in 
shade. 

O father flesh and brother spirit, still 

From out thy dust thy voice ascends to me; 

Whene'er in life shall bend my wavering will 
Here will I kneel and draw in strength from thee. 



168 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



Thine was the Roman face and Roman soul 
Of old Pompeii's sentry ; father, thou 

Saw'st clouds more dread than his o'er heaven roll, 
Stood'st faithful at thy post, and sleepest now. 

Thou need'st no further honor, art but one 
Of many more, a long, unnoticed line ; 

Yet not in vain thy nameless task was done ; 

The strength of nations roots in graves like thine. 

Here o'er his dust we raise this humble stone ; 

And be the dying words of Paul for him, 
"A goodly fight I fought, my race I won. 

My faith I kept." Away, the night grows dim. 



AND OTHER POEMS 16! 

THE FAREWELL TO REASON 

Sweet Comforter of other years, 
I hear thy soft withdrawing tread ; 

Thy voice is yet within mine ears. 

But sounds like echoes from the dead. 

Now child and drudge and Folly hoar 
Shall share at least some glimpse of thee; 

But, blest Interpreter, no more 
Shall thou and I companions be. 

We traced the dome that Darwin piled. 
With Herschel saw the planets roll. 

And oft the evening hours beguiled 

With Mozart's lyre and Plato's scroll. 

Through thee the voice of wife and friend 
Came chiming soft and silver clear; 

'Twas thine those angel notes to blend 
Which ruined mind shall never hear. 

But now these chords too finely spun, — 
This spirit-harp within my brain, — 

I feel them snapping one by one. 
Amid the dread no words explain. 

I see behind the Flaming Sword, 
The vales of Eden trod no more; 

And bitter, dark, and unexplored 
The alien deserts wait before. 



170 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 

THE CORN-HUSKERS 
OR Old New England 

In open field in autumn weather 
We sat and husked the corn together; 
No sound was heard but far and low 
The rumbling cart and cawing crow. 

The weather-beaten shocks around 
Seemed hermits old with sun embrowned. 
Above the stubble gaunt and bare 
You half might think they knelt in prayer. 

We spoke of him by Avon's stream. 
Of Byron's fire and Shelley's dream, 
What Huss endured and Luther wrought. 
And Berkeley's fairy world of thought. 

Still fast the yellow ears we stripped 
Across the basket's edges slipped. 
The withered stalks our fingers stirred 
Kept rustling time to every word. 

No scholars we ; but hearts that long. 
Find much where most they reason wrong; 
And Truth herself seemed speaking near 
By withered husk and ripened ear. 



AND OTHER POEMS 171 



Now o'er the stubble gaunt and bare 
Plods on the foreign hireling there; 
And thou and I in autumn weather 
No more shall husk the corn together. 

With chilling blood and weary brow 
I change romance for knowledge now; 
And thou beneath the moldering ground 
No longer tell'st what thou hast found. 



172 THE WORLD THAT GOD DESTROYED 



THE FAMILY BIBLE 

Grave Book of Ages, hope in hours of terror 

For those who now shake hands with truth divine. 

Some say thy reign is done, thy wisdom error, — 
But rule thou still my father's house and mine. 

God never meant between thy leaves to send us 
Reply to all our questions, urged in vain ; 

His truth, like ocean's flood, is too tremendous 
For human cup to hold, or lip to drain. 

But still in pondering o'er these mighty questions 
Which none but God can solve, through thee we 
grow 
More like to God, who knows them; vague sugges- 
tions 
Enlarge the spirit-cup where truth may flow. 

And round thy solemn text, by buried fathers 
Made corner-stone of council, fort, and shrine, 

A crowd of thoughts from years forgotten gathers, 
A spirit margin, glossing every line. 

That margin is the comment of the ages 

On doubt and answer, faith, and good, and sin. 

The truth that man read into these old pages 
No less the truth than that inscribed within. 



AND OTHER POEMS 173 

Whate'er this book had first of God's bestowing. 
Direct or not its message from above, 

Round it, like vines upon a trellis growing. 

Hang now our sweetest flowers of thought and 
love. 

The martyr's blood its cherished page has blotted; 
Dumb worlds grew vocal round it, "ay" or 
"nay" ; 
Dead lips have kissed it; tears the words have 
spotted 
Which say that God shall wipe all tears away. 

star of morning, dim in shadows darkling. 
Faint hint of light no mortal eyes can bear. 

Like Galahad's Grail I see thy promise sparkling 
Above the dead to bid me follow there. 

From out thy page the wakened visions flying 
Like ^ibyls' leaves are scattered to and fro. 

1 ask, and seem to hear a voice replying, 

"Man grows by asking, though he ne'er may 
know." 



OCT 21 '»" 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



Oct 



^6 



*' f 



LIBRARY 



CONGRESS 




